


Lapis Immorality

by BittersweetAlias, KimpatsuNoHoseki



Series: Harem of a Necromancer [11]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Car Sex, M/M, M/M/M, M/M/M/M, Sex, unintentional sex, vampire shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 105,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24448165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittersweetAlias/pseuds/BittersweetAlias, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimpatsuNoHoseki/pseuds/KimpatsuNoHoseki
Summary: Juggling his life combined with the ardeur is troubling enough, but when a secret organization comes to town with interests in Harry, that’s the least of his problems. There’s also Musette. An envoy of Belle Morte, and she’s shown up without invitation and too early.Book 11: Cerulean Sins
Relationships: ??/Draco, Leo Harlan (Anita Blake)/Harry Potter, Marcus Fletcher/Harry Potter/Edward (Anita Blake), Micah Callahan/Edward (Anita Blake)/Jean-Claude (Anita Blake)/Harry Potter
Series: Harem of a Necromancer [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532249
Comments: 432
Kudos: 831





	1. Chapter One

It was quite crowded for what Edward considered a date. 

Harry admittedly didn’t know much about what a date entailed. Sure, Jean-Claude had taken him to the symphony where he promptly fell asleep, and only awoke to his vampire sweetie’s delicious mouth devouring him, and then there was that God-Awful one time date he’d had when he was fifteen in Hogsmeade. Cho Chang. Harry would forever be trying to forget that particular scenario. Back then it should have been a clue. It wasn’t like Harry had no emotional depth, not like the man beside him. 

Harry liked to pretend that the dinner and snuff film date never happened. Thus, this was Edward’s and his first date. 

At least, Harry thought it was a date. Surely, it was a date. He said the word date right? Harry was going to blame all of this on Hermione Bloody Granger. What was with her and getting him in big arse trouble? Does she have to come in all hormonal and pissy, and then rant for an hour about men, and how they were ungrateful? She then proceeded to blast anyone in sight, and boy had she thrown everyone under the bus. No one had been saved that day from her tirade. Why hadn’t she ranted at Harry for being ungrateful? He would have preferred not to be singled out like that. 

She’d ranted at Micah, and she must have been on something to have ranted at Edward. She’d called all men ungrateful, and made a comment about how Harry didn’t know what a real date was, and how none of them even thought to take him out. She made an example using that horrendous double date at Fox Theater as an example. About how he had chosen John Burke to go with him, and not anyone else because all the men around Harry were ungrateful bastards. Oh dear. He had been rather impressed that Edward just stared at her, and let her rant at him. He must have been in a mood. 

It wasn’t like Harry was ever asking them on a date, but whatever Hermione said had struck a chord. He didn’t listen to all of the ranting. He was good at tuning people out when he had to. He lived in a house that was full of people coming and going from shifters to the odd vampire camping out every so often. 

So, now here he was on what was considered their first date. 

But, then what kind of date was this when he had another lover standing on the opposite side asking intelligent questions of the lover who prompted the date? 

Harry’s life seemed to just be getting weirder and weirder, and if that wasn’t weird enough they had a small entourage a few paces behind them. Marcus’ bodyguard and Skoll, Shang-Da, stood at a table beside them showing Edward’s first stray, Peter, how to work a semi-automatic Glock. 

Peter Parnell had come to their doorstep a few months ago. His mother, Donna Parnell had kicked him out. Edward had sought guardianship, and after much back and forth with a barrage of threats over the phone Peter was now under Edward’s guardianship; and Harry’s mother bear tendencies. Hey, someone had to feed the kid! Why was he always given the feminine titles again?

And it wasn’t the fact that he had a second lover accompanying the date. _Hell, the more lovers the merrier._ Merlin, he couldn’t believe he thought that just now. What had he become? It was more about the fact that this was what Edward considered a proper date. 

Merlin, it was a good thing he loved Edward for other reasons than his dating site preferences. He supposed this was a step up from that Guys and Dolls show at the theater or the symphony. _Sorry, Jean-Claude_ , Harry only enjoyed the Trans-Siberian Orchestra and that was once a year. 

Micah had been invited, but the Nimir-Raj had his fill of mercenaries after the whole Chimera debacle. Jean-Claude was fast asleep for the afternoon, and Marcus had expressed interest in outfitting his bodyguards and various Alpha’s with proper weaponry. Not everyone was an out werewolf after all, and it would be nice to have an alternative to exposing ones-self when they didn’t want to be exposed. 

There had to be at least two hundred tables and glass cases all lined in perfect rows with aisles to weave between. All the tables were covered in either brilliant neon green, orange, or camo coverings. Mostly men with a smattering of women strolled by. Most of them bigger and more hefty than Harry and his group. All of them had about the same expression as Edward had, but at least Edward’s expression was sexy. 

Nothing about the rest of the flock of humans was at all appealing. He was also quite aware of how much he stood out against the backdrop of blue collared men and women. He was wearing a dark blue cashmere jumper that clung to his sleight frame and a pair of blacker than black snug fitting jeans with black two inch calf height boots with silver buckles going up and down the sides. The fur-lined torc that often sat around his neck gleamed with diamonds in the bright lights of the warehouse, and he was aware of the odd stares he received. On top of that he was holding a white thin leather jacket in the crook of his arm. It was much too hot in the warehouse to be wearing it even if winter had come early to St. Louis with fresh snow littering the ground. 

Even Marcus stood out with his strict tailored slacks and deep emerald green sweater-vest with a pinched perfect red tie beneath it. He had a crisp white button down beneath that. His blond hair was styled in a wave of perfection, and it was all topped with a pair of white linen gloves that he often wore to protect his surgeon hands. 

Edward blended in well, long sleeved dark blue henley with well sitting dark denim jeans in a boot cut. He had a soft gray thin winter’s coat with black clasps. It was probably the only thing that set him apart from the homely look of the rest of the gun enthusiasts. It had been a gift from Jean-Claude, and had many hidden pockets and things for the goodies that Edward liked to sport on his person. 

Edward and Marcus may not look like much from afar, and most would think they were rather average except for their broad shoulders, but one real look into their blue eyes would let anyone intelligent know that they were not average men. 

Marcus was the Ulfric of the Thronnos Rokke Clan, and Edward was - well Edward was the human version of Death. He was the assassin that you didn’t want to meet. His eyes were almost always dead, almost always empty, and devoid of emotion. 

Harry said almost because for a while now Edward had been able to experience something. Whatever it was had only served to make him more ruthless and cunning. He could now feel something he never had before, and that made him dangerous in a completely different way. 

Harry observed Edward’s hands and the spark in his ice blue eyes as he listened intently to a Smith and Wesson representative unleashing the newest in semi-automatic guns. He was pretty sure that the last time he saw this man so excited was when…

“His appreciation for the new line of guns is almost rivaled by his appreciation for your beautiful ass, my Lupa.” Marcus’ palm rested on the small of his back, and his lips were touching his ear making him shiver at the crisp growl. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Harry breathed aware of the simmering warmth that constantly played in the pit of his stomach. It was more than desire and more than want. It was always there, and no one except these men could bring so much out in him. Even watching Edward’s appreciation and the way his fingers and hands would dance across various models had him almost rippling with goosebumps that trailed from his arms to his neck. 

He blamed the ardeur entirely for this. Yep, that’s what he was going to go with. Marcus chuckled into his shoulder, and Harry knew the man could smell his blood pressure rising. 

“What did the little wolf say once? You smell spicy, Lupa,” Marcus remarked and Harry, not wanting to interrupt Edward’s love affair with the weapons and models because his ardeur was acting up, elbowed his Ulfric lightly. 

“Hmph.” 

Peter and Shang-Da mostly remained in the background. Sometimes, Edward would beckon Peter over, and give him a good run down on a certain model that he either approved of or found inferior to others he found better. 

Peter was a fifteen year old kid with soft fine brown hair and big brown eyes. He, unlike Harry, had gained some height since Harry met him last. He was towering around Edward’s height now, but still on the too thin side because he was a teenager. 

Harry’s height had never moved, still sitting at the five five mark, and he grudgingly dropped the last five because it made him sound childish. He knew it had, but for years his height had been a source of contention. His four men were good at making him forget those things. Besides, Micah was almost his exact height and if he disparaged over his own height that would be hypocritical since Micah was such a beautiful person. 

But, then again Micah had more things going for him than his delicate triangular features. He may look slightly feminine in the face, but from the shoulders down was all very much man and masculine. He was like a perfect marriage. He and Marcus were constantly trying to see how much Harry could take from them, and Edward, the masochistic evil bastard that he was, loved egging them on. He loved watching. He was as much a deviant as everyone else. 

And to think, Harry was once a virgin with not a clue in his brain about sexuality, and here he was with something inside of him that often begged and screamed to be released. It might be a good thing that his sex-drive was so high otherwise he’d be exhausted. Four men. 

Harry was still asking how he did it, and Peter was really confused. He couldn’t quite blame the boy. He came from a very conservative background where a man was supposed to marry a woman, everyone was supposed to go to Sunday school, and anything abnormal was to be abhorred. He lived a very Dursley-like life only to reject it at a young age. It was how he ended up in their clutches after all. 

“You keep that up, Ulfric, and a hidden corner will need to be found.” Harry breathed out, pushing back against Marcus. The man was slowly rubbing Harry’s ass in time with Edward’s caress of different guns. Damn, his men had a way of making him feel so much with only a touch. He wanted to blame the ardeur, but he had a feeling that it was just more pronounced with them. 

“See how he fists the stock? Perfect gliding movements along the shaft.” Marcus shifted to stand directly behind Harry and pulled their hips flush together. “So much experience to pass on to the younger generation.” Harry’s heart began to thud in time to Marcus’ movements, and he could feel every breath the man took against him. His breaths coasted across the back of his neck along the flaming scythe tattoo that was tucked beneath his inky black hair. 

All Harry could do was stare at Edward with a hyper focus that set his teeth on edge. It was like looking through a lens, and seeing every flaw that transformed into perfection. A nick on the edge of his thumb, a small crescent white scar on the curve of his wrist. 

Marcus’ rumbling laugh was soft and went unheard by all the patrons, but Harry heard and felt him loud and clear. 

“You bastard,” Harry whimpered. He could feel the heat rising and spreading through all points of his body. “How am I going to get through this?” 

They had at least a hundred more tables, and all Harry could think about was one or both of them slamming him on to one of them and fucking him senseless. Harry barely noticed Shang-Da passing them and approaching Edward and Peter. No, his attention was now turned to the alpha behind him who was lightly rolling their hips together while petting along the front of his hips and thighs.

“I guess Shang-Da was right. There is something we forgot in the car. Good thing these organizers know me and we can get back in without much hassle.” Edward sauntered up to Marcus and Harry with a grin. 

Harry couldn’t even blink he was so absorbed in noticing everything about Edward. From how short his slick back blond hair was thanks to Harry’s trim, and how it was perfectly trimmed around the ears. His ice blue eyes were a kind of empty that made Harry shiver. He loved them because they were Edward’s eyes. He did not have to fill himself with false emotion. He was what he was, and Harry loved that about him. He was currently wearing light orange square lenses that had the ability to reflect and see things behind him at all times. It wasn’t like he needed glasses, he had perfect twenty-twenty vision after all, and probably even better. It seemed that he had gotten Jean-Claude’s long distance vision. He was able to see detail in even more hyper clarity than he ever did. 

“You don’t say.” Marcus grinned back. “Best we go deal with that now then.” He pushed in against Harry’s back. “Lupa, darling, are you able to walk?” he asked with what was almost a purr, but not quite. Wolves don’t purr after all. 

“Mhmm.” 

“What did you do to him?” Edward mused. 

“Just a touch. He was looking at you the whole time,” Marcus returned. “It’s been about ten hours. Who was it that he fed on last?” 

“Micah.” 

Harry was so flushed by now that he was almost shaken, and the ardeur was ready and waiting to spring. His eyes focused on the crease in Edward’s neck, the pulse that he could see. Marcus’ hands rolled and pushed him subtly until they were heading toward the heavy double doors. Harry had managed a good ten hours, but thanks to his Ulfric that ten hours had now expired, and the ardeur leaped out of him like a great big cat ready to pounce. 

Marcus shoved him into Edward the moment they hit the outdoors, and normally Harry would be frigid, but his skin was hot to touch, and his need unsettling and burning. Fingers ran along his back and fisted into his messy hair, and the sound of a chirp and then a door opening saw Harry being shoved onto the expansive lowered backseat of the Escalade. 

His magic reacted to his hunger, and it made the shedding of clothes that much easier as Marcus pulled him off Edward, and drew him in. Harry crawled over top of Marcus and bit down on his neck. He sucked and pulled at the skin, and in return he received a long low growl along with that deliciously strong energy that spiraled out of Marcus. Harry’s creature came to call, pushing in against Marcus, and curling around him metaphysically as he felt Marcus’ desire and tasted his heart in the back of his throat. 

“I think we should see how we both fit in him this time,” Edward’s voice was thick and heady, and it sent Harry’s urges further. He clawed and climbed down Marcus’ chest. He ripped at the button down that was left on Marcus. “Two for one deal.”

“Good idea,” Marcus grunted, and he hissed when Harry’s tongue and teeth coasted across his nipple. Harry knew it was one of his most sensitive parts of his body as he gathered the pink nub into his mouth and dragged his teeth across it to the other side resulting in a series of growling moans. 

Edward removed what was left of Harry’s bottoms, and he cracked his hand down the flesh making him yelp against Marcus. “I love it when your magic does some work for me. Makes it much more fun to simply enter,” and he pushed two fingers between Harry’s cheeks, and slid them as far inside as he could. 

Harry’s body burned and itched. He arched as he shimmied down between Marcus’ legs and gathered his large veined cock into his mouth with a voracious hunger, and he sucked and moved in time to Edward’s finger teasing. He layered his body with magic to coat his entrance, and it was more than enough to have Edward fiddling with his belt. 

“Sit on him,” Edward spat with another whack to his bottom. 

Harry let go of Marcus, and licked back up his perfect chest. The Ulfric took him by the throat and shoved their tongues together until Harry bit enough to draw a tiny amount of blood. It had Marcus growling with desire from both the human and the beast inside. It rolled through Harry and pressed over top of the Lupa in him. Harry eagerly spread his thighs wide across Marcus and slowly sank himself down onto the large cock hastily lubricated. He moaned as he pierced himself with the hard thickness allowing it to push back his weak defenses the further he sank. He pushed more of his power into Marcus, and sucked on the lust that poured off him. Edward helped guide the cock inside, and then grabbed Harry’s hips and pushed him down causing a scream to spill out his throat as Marcus filled him hard and fast. 

Edward didn’t hesitate or go in easy with Marcus lodged in him. He did not wait for Harry’s body to settle and get used to the stretching. Marcus was about the same size as Micah, and Harry knew from experience that if Marcus wanted to he could get bigger. Edward pushed his lubricated cock into Harry’s ass joining Marcus’ slick cock and it stretched and pulled Harry from the inside out. 

“Yes!” It was all Harry could scream as pain blossomed beautifully into eye rolling pleasure. 

“You enjoy seeing him ripped apart don’t you?” Marcus teased with a rumble. 

“How can I not? He makes me,” Edward growled back with a jerk of his hips. “Little Raven is always pushing buttons. Fuck, it’s hard to resist.” 

“Hn… I want more.” 

“Listen how greedy he is? Eating our cocks and begging for more.” 

“We taught him well.” 

“Bastards…” Harry choked out. 

Harry rolled his hips experimentally as he bit down on the wrist that held him still. He got lost in the ride, Marcus and Edward found a perfect rhythm and that deep well of heat and itching need tore through him with every thrust that pounded into his begging body. A sweet taste of his own blood filled his mouth and he shared it with Marcus who swallowed him down. 

Harry rode their pleasure and pushed his own into both of them, he poured his desires causing both men to get louder and their movements more frantic and desperate. He filled them with a need and a hunger. He compounded their lust and desire, and allowed it to overflow. His ardeur writhed inside of each of them, and he drank them down as they fucked him relentlessly until that itch and burn exploded into a scalding wave of cum across Marcus’ chest. Edward was moving so hard and fast that Harry’s screams were lost, and only air escaped as he pleaded for more. He begged for it. He knew they could feel his orgasms, his ardeur wanted them to feel it. It wanted their lust. It wanted to suck it dry. 

Marcus cried out first. He snapped around Harry’s waist, and squeezed him so tight that if he’d been anyone else he would have snapped in half. Edward pushed Harry down onto Marcus’ chest and relentlessly fucked him, using Marcus’ cum as lubrication until his own release came with a series of curses and louder moans. Harry whined as he curled into Marcus. He was shaking and rolling his slick body up and down like a lazy cat, and their tongues sucked each other as Edward fell on top of him. Harry could feel every muscle from his men, and it made him twitch. The hunger was satiated, but it wasn’t gone. It was still there, ready and waiting for the next time. 

Harry turned his neck and locked eyes with fiery ice blue, and their mouths meshed together in a long drinkable kiss that quenched him. 

“You should knot in him next time.” 

Marcus let out a chuckle. “You’re an animal of a different kind, Edward.” 

“Got that right,” Edward grunted. “We all are,” he snapped his teeth at Harry. “Look at him. I don’t think he can move. But, I do have to say what a successful date.” 

Harry made a noise. He’d like to argue that, but really. Didn’t all dates end with hot sex? “We should return before Peter gets too curious and gives Shang-Da the slip,” he said instead. Besides, Edward had been excited about the show. He wanted to at least let him finish. 

“He couldn’t do that,” said Marcus smirking. 

“Don’t be so sure, teenagers are crafty,” said Harry as Edward slowly peeled himself from Harry’s body. He rolled. “You’d be surprised where they can slip off to when you least expect it.” 

“Hn, I’m never surprised.” Edward observed Harry’s body, raking it up and down. Marcus dragged his hand down Harry’s chest toward his flat stomach and cupped down his thighs and hips. 

Harry’s eyes fluttered. He conjured a handful of wet towels with a lazy hand movement. He hardly needed a wand for conjuration anymore, and they proceeded to try and fix themselves back to right. 

Marcus cleared his throat. “Are you going to fix my shirt?” He raised the shredded white shirt. It looked like a cat had gotten a hold of it and used it as a scratching post. It was only a bit worse than his chest. Marcus’ lovely body had Harry’s teeth and nail marks blistering red. Of course, Marcus could heal it himself in a matter of seconds, but he never did. He seemed to appreciate them. Even Edward would look at them from time to time as if studying them. 

“Oops.” Harry ran his hand down it, and let a tingle of magic gather at the tips of his fingers, and the shirt not only became perfectly mended, but also became crisp and straightened. 

“Your face is filthy,” Edward drawled, taking a towel to Harry’s mouth and jaw. “I wonder why it is you hunger for flesh? Toy does not.” 

“It’s probably the wolf and leopard inside of him,” said Marcus as he sat up. Harry inched down so that he was between the man’s legs and pressed against Edward. He hadn’t yet gotten his own clothes back on him. 

“A beautiful monster of a Little Raven,” Edward smirked. He folded his fingers through Harry’s hair as he snuggled into the man’s neck. 

He was certainly something like it. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with the term beautiful, but monster? Yeah, that might be apt. Harry had no idea what he happened to be if he were honest. So confusing. 

There was a lot of _probably_ going on in Harry’s life, and he had no reason to comment or offer his own opinions. What the hell did he know? He listened to both men fall into discussion as he slowly untangled himself from the limbs wrapped around him to get dressed. As his clothes were often too tight, he used magic to clothe himself properly. He winced as the thong he’d been wearing settled between his burning cheeks and with a flick of his hand he switched them out for something a bit softer. 

Harry smoothed out the wrinkles in Edward’s shirt, and they were soon stepping out of the Escalade, and a wave of frigid cold evaporated all the heat he’d been feeling causing him to shiver violently with his teeth clacking together. “ _Hngh…_ ” 

Marcus quickly dived in for Harry’s jacket. Both men were unaffected by the blustery temperature. 

“I blame Dr. Lillian,” Harry sulked as Marcus helped him into his jacket. His fingers were so cold that he could hardly button them up. 

“Why is that?” 

“She told me not to use warming charms unless I have to. She thinks it’ll mess up my system.” 

Marcus was thoughtful. “It could. How exactly do they work?” 

Harry shrugged. “Just know how to use them.” 

“You should always know what you’re using, Little Raven.” 

“It’s an elementary spell. It’s one of the first we learn after motor control of course, and everyone’s been using it for years. I haven’t noticed a difference. You can ask Hermione for details or Draco.” 

Peter and Shang-Da weren’t too far away from where they’d left, and Harry leaned back into Marcus’ arms as they resumed their browsing of the tables. 

It wasn’t easy to get his balance back after the ardeur had its way. Harry tended to feel fluffy and more snuggly than usual. 

Peter had an odd expression on his face, and Harry could only imagine what Shang-Da told him. It also made Harry realize that Shang-Da had told Edward that he was getting a bit… 

Geez. Why was everyone so focused on him? Part of him was a bit embarrassed by it, although he was very used to shifters sniffing him and everyone else out. He had yet to clue Draco and Hermione into his issue. He didn’t think it was necessary. Not to mention how would he tell them what was going on with him and expect them to understand? He couldn’t. 

Harry revolved around the room, half listening to Edward, Shang-Da, and Peter. Marcus would throw his questions out there, but he relegated most of the intricate questions to Shang-Da and Edward as they knew what they were doing. Marcus was a bit out of his element, but he saw an opportunity to help make his pack stronger. Chimera had been one hell of an eye opener. If there was one of him there would be a whole lot more in the future. 

Harry had always thought Marcus would be against public displays of affection. He always seemed like that type. So rigorous and self-disciplined, not wanting to draw attention to himself unless it was about his career, and so he had been surprised when Marcus would touch and pet him in public. He even took it a step forward and would wrap his arms around Harry. He didn’t seem to mind when Harry nuzzled against him or got closer. In fact, he seemed to welcome it. Ever since preternaturals had become legal, so had same gender marriage and all the laws. There were still some homophobic arses out there, but mostly people had grown used to it, and those who didn’t like it had a tendency to walk away, especially when there was a group. 

“So why did you three really leave?” Peter asked Harry as Marcus and Edward started looking at armor padding. Harry turned in surprise, not having expected Peter behind him. 

“What do you mean?”

“Shang-Da said something to Edward and the next thing I know you are all gone. He then fed me some bullshit excuse of you looking elsewhere, but you weren’t in the building.”

“Language. Don’t be saying things like that around Teddy.” Harry frowned. 

“Well? Why did you leave?”

“Not for you to know, kid.” Edward interrupted, slinging an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Come on I think I’ve seen all this place has to offer. Peter, you’re riding with Shang-Da back.”

“What? Why?” Peter hurried after them as Edward directed Harry back out of the building.

“It’s a surprise.” Edward responded with a grin, pushing Harry into Marcus’s arms as he stopped at the driver side door. “Shang-Da knows but also knows not to say anything. We need to finish our discussion on the way home.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Nope.” Edward turned to Marcus and Harry.

Harry understood Peter’s sulking about not knowing something, and so he turned. “Ask us again when you get used to everyone, Peter.” The thing was Peter was not Teddy nor was Peter his kid yet. He had also been introduced to the world of sexuality in a harsh and traumatizing way. It would take him some time to understand healthy sex. 

Although, Harry’s sexuality was hardly healthy right now. There were times when he begged and wanted his men to run through him. It was like a carnal and desperate need that clung to him. He would itch and burn until he got what he wanted. Ever since the ardeur had kicked in, it’d become worse. It was like he hungered for their flesh to be in him. He wanted them full of his sex and vice versa. It would take a while before he settled in completely, and everyone was at that level of comfort with Peter to share personal details. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means what it means,” said Shang-Da. “Besides, they are technically on a date.” 

“Then why are we here?” asked Peter in confusion. 

“Ulfric and Lupa need guarding. A guard’s job is to stay out of the way.” 

“Besides, we had to outfit you with the proper gear if you want to go deer hunting,” said Edward smirking. 

“But we didn’t buy anything.” 

“Nothing in there was needed. I have most of it at home. It’s always best to have a shotgun tailored to your size, weight, and height. Otherwise you risk shooting your own foot off. That was to teach you what was out there and what wasn’t. You always keep up with the latest gear and models. Just in case something new comes along.” 

“Not to mention the kickback is a bitch,” Harry grumbled against Marcus. He’d bruised himself multiple times using a shotgun. He preferred his old fashioned wand to get the job done. It helped these days that Edward was a lot more lenient about Harry not using guns so much. It just didn’t suit him. He still carried a Ruger on him at all times, but he wasn’t as outfitted with one or two wands. He did have a lot of knives on the other hand. Knives were probably more useful than a gun at times. Harry couldn’t count the number of times when his special basilisk venom knives had come in handy now. Unlike magic, charmed knives could break through iron. 

Lesson long since learned. 

Edward had promised to take Peter deer hunting that weekend before the cold could really settle in. It would be a great way to introduce him to shooting at a target that couldn’t really hurt them back. It would also give Harry a chance to work with venison. Something he’d never done before. He was looking forward to that. 

“In the front Little Raven, we’re not through yet.”

Shang-Da and Peter separated to Harry’s Lexus, which had a lot of built in charms and wards to keep it from ever wrecking or getting pulled over by police. Harry was pushed into the front seat of the Escalade. The middle console was customized to be removed so that Harry could sit between any of his men. 

It seemed to Harry that Edward was determined to do the date right, and he needed no prompting as he maneuvered his slim body down to the floorboard of the passenger seat between Marcus’ parted legs. 

“I’m approving of the date.” 

“You couldn’t have read that from my mind.” 

“No, but I can feel and taste your desire,” said Harry extracting his Ulfric’s fat cock once more from the confines of his tailored slacks. “I can take my time?” 

“Whatever you want, Lupa,” said Marcus, his silvery blue eyes sparking with a heated fire. 

“Testing the charm work?” Harry teased running his hand up the long growing cock with experienced ministrations. 

“You know I have to test everything,” said Edward. 

“I like how he fits in so many places,” said Marcus with a hiss when Harry started slow with only a tongue. 

“Maybe next I’ll test your reflexes. So much cock, and all for me.” 

“Yes, Lupa all for you,” Marcus grinned and then he groaned when Harry’s mouth covered him and swallowed him down as far as he could until he felt it in the back of his throat. 

Harry could taste a little of himself and Edward at the same time layered thinly along the fleshy veins of Marcus’ cock. It pulsed as though it were alive with every spiral of his tongue. Both of these men were not known for being very loud, and Harry decided that he wanted to make them loud. Both of them had more control than even Jean-Claude who often let his desires run so rampant that he lost all sense of control. 

Maybe it was time to truly test his men’s control?

Harry worked Marcus slowly with his mouth and tongue. He teased and taunted the Ulfric into making him pant like a dog. Harry never took his eyes from him, watching Marcus’ well controlled expressions. Edward was watching him more than the road, completely trusting the wards and the charms around the car to not send them off a cliff or headlong into another car. 

Harry was proud of him. He’d come a long way. Harry thought very briefly about denying Marcus the right to orgasm. He could feel the heated pulse, the Alpha energy gathering, and the smooth strong fingers that carded through his hair. Harry enjoyed the feel and the taste of them in the back of his throat. He loved how he could feel their heartbeat, and even without the ardeur as backup, Harry managed to get Marcus shifting and attempting to hold his head down, desperate for more of him. He worked his throat muscles along the shaft, and right when he felt the tightening of his balls and the surge of orgasming threat, Harry withdrew causing Marcus to let out an undignified noise. 

Harry didn’t bother to wipe his mouth, and he turned away from Marcus as though disinterested and crawled across the groaning leader toward Edward. 

“You are really putting the magic to test. Are you going to leave him like that?” 

“Like you all leave me so many fucking times,” Harry growled with a nip to the man’s ear. He was already expertly removing Edward’s thick cock from his jeans, and Harry repeated what he’d done to Marcus as hands roamed over his bottom and pulled at the tight jeans. Marcus’ breaths were still sharp, the sexual desire surging through his hands as he managed to peel the damn things down to reveal Harry’s well fucked ass and the thin strip of the thong. 

It was a very good thing the windows were tinted black. 

Escalades were roomy vehicles, and Harry was what would be considered petit for a man. He and Micah both, and it was probably one of the highlights of his small size that he could fit just about anywhere. 

Harry’s throat locked around Edward’s cock and with expert work of his muscles he had the man forcing the car to the side of the road. The back of his neck was gripped harshly, and he whined and moaned when his Ulfric’s mouth began to kiss and then bury his face into Harry’s parted cheeks. 

Harry rolled his eyes at the tongue, and picked up a furious pace. Marcus pumped up and down Harry’s smooth shaft with a strong grip that caused the tell-tale pressure to build.

He didn’t realize that his two lovely men were communicating silently until Marcus removed himself from Harry’s ass. In a sharp movement, he yanked his Lupa’s lovely hips and forced his already well worked bottom right down onto his slick begging cock. 

“Ahhh!” Harry’s eyes rounded as he was filled hard and fast. His head falling to Edward’s thigh as Marcus held him down. 

“You should get driving, Edward.” 

“Yeah, I should,” said Edward, his voice was thick and heavy. 

Harry whined and wiggled but Marcus forced his hips to still. “Just keep it warm, Lupa.” 

Pulses of pleasure and skin prickling tingles spread through him as Marcus clenched him tight. He was kept in a cast iron grip sitting on Marcus’ pulsing straight up cock. “Ngh!” 

Marcus used one hand to grip his chin and draw him back for a tongue sucking kiss, and every so often his hips would discreetly move up into Harry making him whimper. It was kind of amazing how his shifter men could keep themselves so erect even in human form. Micah, for example, likes sleeping with his cock lodged in Harry’s arse. 

“You evil bastards,” Harry grumbled as Marcus who chuckled. 

“You left my cock Lupa. You can’t leave me unsatisfied.” 

“As if I would,” said Harry, writhing slowly. “Seems Edward just can’t do both at the same time.” 

Edward glared at him. “What’s that mean, Little Raven?” 

“Oh you know, driving and enjoying a lovely suck at the same time,” he teased his deathly lover. “But that’s okay. Just means I’m really good at what I do.” 

“He’s gotten cocky.” Marcus jerked Harry’s messy hair sharply. 

“Arrogance. I blame the Toy.” 

Harry giggled as though he were drunk. He slowly rotated his hips and even underneath the pressured grip on his hips he managed to make Marcus groan. “I’ve got experience with cast iron grips,” he told his Ulfric. “I can wiggle in and out of anywhere.” 

Edward grunted at this, still a little annoyed that he did have to pull over. But, he gave Harry his point, and watching him was all worth it. His face was flushed red, his emerald eyes were wider and brighter, and that smile on his face as he licked across Marcus’ mouth while also keeping eye-locked with Edward was enough to make them want to rail him more. 

“Actually, Edward I think I blame you. Anyone can have sex. But only one of you can make him like this.” 

“Perhaps.” 

And then Marcus let go of Harry’s hips to watch what he would do, and threw his head back with a moan when Harry very slowly rotated his hips around and around, up and down on the slick glide of his cock. It was slow and taunting and it pulled Marcus’ beast out without even trying. 

“Fuck….!” 

Harry whimpered and rocked. Edward still hadn’t restarted the car just watching as Harry spelled his clothes magically away so that Edward could watch the full show. Harry moaned when Edward started to lightly stroke himself in time with Harry’s rocking.

“I think in the end. It’s just him. Never seen such a cock hungry boy in all my life.” 

“I blame you. All of you. I was innocent,” Harry tossed at him as he began to bounce up and down. He used the seat as a spring board making Marcus hold his hips and roll them. 

“Never innocent. Naive, but not innocent.” 

“You called me innocent. Said you like your lovers with more experience.” 

“And that you’ve gotten,” said Edward smirking. “My best student.” 

“You’re a bad teacher,” Marcus groaned.

“No reason to deny it.” 

“I’m done. I need to fuck him hard.” Harry yelped when Marcus seized him around the waist. He hoisted Harry up just slightly, and Edward shifted letting the Alpha sprawl Harry across his front. Harry gathered Edward’s raging cock into his mouth and screamed around it when Marcus held him down on the seats, adjusted his own position, and slammed so hard into him that Harry’s spine would have broken if he’d been anyone other than himself. 

“Ahhhh!” Spots appeared in front of his eyes. Why did he like being fucked so hard? Most would hate it, but Harry - Merlin of all, Harry couldn’t get enough and it wasn’t the ardeur singing through him. That was well and truly satisfied, and it was only a simmer. 

“Nice,” Edward growled. “Suck me as hard as he fucks you,” he ordered cupping the back of Harry’s neck who happily gorged himself on Edward. 

He sucked, bobbed, and moaned as Marcus lost all his tightly packed control. He used Harry’s body, thrusting and filling him deep and long. 

Harry’s orgasms were wild and long, and he was thrown over the edge as Marcus pushed his powerful hips into Harry. Edward held him down on his cock and cum poured into his mouth and ass in thick hot ribbons. He sucked languidly until he took every last drop into his throat. Marcus arched over him and down, burying his nose into Harry’s neck and kissing the salty sweat beneath his ear. 

“Your taste in vehicles is agreeable Marcus, I must say,” Edward actually choked and had to clear his throat. As thick and layered as it was. 

“My taste is always good. It may not be flashy like Jean-Claude, but it is practical.” 

“Arses,” Harry whined as his numb mouth let go of Edward, and stayed face down against the man’s upper thigh. 

“And a fine one you’ve got,” Marcus taunted. “He didn’t release his ardeur.” 

“He didn’t have to. I’m beginning to think that the ardeur is only a stepping stone. It doesn’t control him so much as we control him.” Edward gathered Harry’s face and brought him up so that he stared into ice blue eyes. “Which is a good thing.” 

“I don’t want to love you to death. It was satisfied. I just wanted you.” 

“But you weren’t.” 

“I’m always satisfied. Just always on.” 

“With no sadism?” Marcus squeezed Harry tight. “It’s revolutionary.” 

“He’s a Little Raven. A pain in the arse.”

Harry made a noise. “I object to that. Who are the ones lodged in my arse?” 

“And mouth,” Marcus quipped. 

“So, how was this date?” 

Harry brushed a kiss across Edward’s thigh to his softening cock. “Much improved. I award you five points.” He raised his hand up and opened his hand, and Marcus threw his head back and laughed. 

His date ended in a nice dinner at a high end restaurant of Marcus’ choosing. He might have just been a bit on the ravenous side, and ended up with an appetizer, main course, and double dessert, which he never usually had the stomach for. But the seared pork-chops were really excellent. 

Honestly, all his men had good taste, and Harry was if nothing else the biggest critic when it came to good food. He sat between Marcus and Edward, Peter and Shang-Da had taken a table two lengths behind and in perfect view of all exits and entrances. Not that Edward didn’t have it covered. 

It was interesting to note that Edward seemed to get along with a lot of the wolves. He supposed that a lot of them had a similar mentality as Edward to a certain degree, particularly when it came to safety. 

Marcus and Edward were debating the finer points of outfitting his pack, and how to actually get them to use them instead of scoff. Marcus’ word was law, but a lot of lycanthropes sneered at the sight of guns and knives. They believed themselves bigger and badder than anything human made. 

Harry was happily nibbling on the blueberry swirled cheesecake, and thinking about a third piece. 

“It’s foolish to be a one trick pony,” said Edward. 

“I agree. It’s why I always have Shang-Da at my back. He never would rise too close before, but after Richard and Raina…” 

“You restored his respect,” said Edward sipping at the lemon flavored ice water. 

Marcus nodded. “Yes. Now, if I can get the others on board.” 

“That’s easy,” said Harry idly, causing both men to look at him. 

“How?” asked Marcus. 

“Were you even listening or having your tenth orgasm? And this time over food?” Edward drawled. 

Harry stabbed him lightly with his fork. “I think you’re well and truly done, Edward.” 

Edward smirked. “Don’t be so sure. I’m always medium rare.” 

Marcus chuckled. “Why do you think it’s simple?” 

“Appeal to their pride. Let Edward have a go at them. Let them prove they don’t need weapons,” Harry smiled, and Marcus and Edward both arched brows and looked at him. “What? You don’t think you can handle it? Come on, you can be blindfolded and deaf, and still hit your mark Edward. Use rubber bullets and prove them wrong.”

“Why would I use rubber bullets?” asked Edward, more focused on such a weak standard of practice.

“Because hurting a wolf with a rubber bullet is impressive and makes a better point than paint.” 

“I like it,” said Marcus. 

“It would be good training,” said Edward. “But I think it would be even better if Little Raven was in on it. You don’t use your firearms, and yet you always have them on you. It would strike home that if you needed them, they are there.” 

“Also, Peter could watch. He could pick something up.” 

“A lot of birds shot in one go.” 

“I want another piece of dessert,” Harry confessed, and Marcus was already beckoning their server. 

“You’re eating for four, I shouldn’t be surprised,” Edward smirked only for Harry to squawk. “Good thing you don’t get fat.” 

“With all the workouts he does? I doubt it,” said Marcus. “I check his blood pressure every second of the day when I’m with him. I can just hear how healthy he is.” 

“He is a growing Little Raven.” 

“Oi, I’m not seventeen, no matter how young I look.” Harry pouted causing Marcus to chuckle, and Harry knew the expression made him look even younger, but what could he do? He was twenty-six, but didn’t look a day over seventeen. His magic was the wonkiest and most crazy thing in the world, and on that note Edward had also not aged. Not since he became part of the Tetrumvirate connection. In the end, Harry likened him to being the stabilizer between Micah, Jean-Claude, and Harry. All of them had such unique energy, power, and magic that when together it was magnified to a point of being earth shattering. But, Edward, who was a calm, empty, and hyper-focused Sociopath, brought stability to their group. Leveling that power off so that it didn’t tear everyone apart. 

Harry never wanted to go back to that untouchable moment again. Micah and Jean-Claude had been out of reach to him. Now that Harry had touch and affection, he could hardly live without it. 

“That’s debatable.” 

“Arses!” But, he did get his third piece of dessert, but this time Harry, Marcus, and Edward shared it. It was a light one that didn’t make Edward inwardly cringe. 

Harry had to say it was a successful date even with Shang-Da and Peter in the background always watching. He was getting used to guards. He never went anywhere without them these days. 

It was much different to the guards he’d once had long ago that hid under bushes and fell asleep only to let him get attacked by soul-sucking Dementors. At least his men actually cared and loved him enough to always include him, and never leave him out. 

It took a long time for Harry to get to this point, and no matter which of his men he was with, all of them were nestled somewhere deep in his heart. Always there, and always waiting for him and each other. 

Even Marcus who Harry had not meant to truly add to their core group. He had believed that there was no more room. No more vacancy in his already jam packed life, but he fit. Somehow, his Ulfric fit with them. Not to say that they didn’t argue or debate or squabble. They did quite a bit, but it worked. 

He had always been unsure and apprehensive, but to him, this was right. It was nice having such a large capacity to love. 

He supposed he’d give Dumbledore a single meager point even in death. Maybe love was his true power. Hah, how cheesy did that sound?


	2. Chapter Two

They returned home that evening to hear a lot of laughter on the ground floor den. Teddy’s energy was positively overflowing, and even Edward could feel it swooping around the room. 

“It won’t be long before he fully shifts,” Marcus acknowledged taking Harry’s coat. 

It turned out that it was Nathaniel and shockingly enough Damian who were playing with Teddy, chasing him around the room. Teddy was crafty and had been around shifters and vampires enough to actually know how to evade capture. He was good at bouncing onto the ceiling with his magic or even using a form of disillusion to fade against a wall and away from their keen eyesight. All of the house was encrusted with crystal, garland, and lights. A lot of Christmas decorations that everyone might have gone overboard on. Large decorated fir trees sat in almost every room. His Pard was never particularly excited about the holidays before Harry had taken over, Gabriel’s idea of celebration involved sadism and torture with a smattering of sex. 

He was not surprised that most of the members and even Micah’s Pard revolved around Teddy. He was an innocence that they hadn’t been afforded. It was like being around Teddy gave them back a childhood that most had lost long ago. 

Harry would be opening the large dining hall that year. He had invited more and more of the wolves to celebrate if they wanted to. He was slowly warming up to some of the pack. Not all of them, and Marcus understood. But ones like Jamil, Shang-Da, and of course the ever present Stephen and a few others were more than welcome. 

Draco was hanging around for Christmas this year, and quite excited to be doing so. His parents were going to be in Australia. His father had gotten a business prospect, and so Draco saw no reason to tag along. 

“Bouncing off the walls literally,” said Harry tilting his head and watching the spectacle. Damian finally caught him, pinned him, and tickled him. 

“Good training,” Edward acknowledged as Shang-Da and Peter trailed in right behind him. “Don’t you have some raisings to do tonight?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, three of them. Usually, Christmas time is slower. Everyone gets weird around this time of the year. But inheritance and lawyers don’t give a rat’s arse.” 

“I have a rotation to do tonight. Between the Fourth of July, Halloween, Christmas, and New Years it’s a wonder that there are people left alive in St. Louis,” said Marcus shaking his head. 

“How many firecracker victims do you have to fix?” 

“Too many. I’ve even had a group of teenagers come into the emergency having lit roman candles from their asses.” Edward smirked, and Harry laughed. “Least to say I  _ should _ have gotten a bonus.” 

“Was there anything left to sew up?” Harry asked cringing at the idea. 

“You’d be surprised. The body is an amazing conductor. Instead of exploding it often splits apart.” 

“Yeouch.” 

“Interesting.” 

“Makes me not want to use the fireworks I bought for New Years Eve,” said Harry. “Although, they won’t really hurt you as they’re magical.” Every year he ordered a huge box overseas of fireworks, and this year George had sent him so many brand new ones that it had to be flown in by large oversized eagles. His Pard had been unusually excited seeing them, and he’d had to smack Zane on the nose to keep him from trying to eat one of them. 

He wasn’t kidding. It seemed that the cat part of them were extremely fascinated by birds. Surprise, surprise. 

Teddy made a beeline for them, his face was bright red, and these days he was too big to pick up. He was growing like a weed, and looking even more adorable and beautiful than ever. It didn’t stop him from hugging and kissing everyone, including Shang-Da and Peter. 

Micah had taken Noah, Zane, Seth, Christine, and Gina with him to meet with some independent weres in another city. He, Rafael, and Marcus had started a Lycanthrope Coalition. It’d started as a way to always have a line open, and to prevent anymore Chimera’s from cropping up out of nowhere and taking them over. It also had a byproduct of flushing out a lot of vicious rogue weres that Edward had a good time hunting down. 

Some people approved, some did not. It was tenuous and there were times when Micah had to prove his worth and dominance, and while Zane wasn’t an Alpha, he wasn’t the most submissive either. He was also the most animalistic of them all, and so he provided a side that proved that the coalition wanted everyone involved. Christine was also a vicious one in her own right. She had fought on even ground numerous times with Raina. If she’d been a wolf, she’d have probably tore the woman’s throat out and not given it back. Gina was still under house arrest after what she’d done. She was not allowed to go anywhere alone for at least a year, and she had to take self-improvement classes. Micah had been doubtful that these would be at all useful, but Harry had put his foot down. All his leopards went through it, and so would she. Cherry, Gregory, and Viv had come a long way with them. Zane, not so much, but then that could be because Zane was Zane. 

Harry went off to prepare for his night of raisings as all the men settled in the den.`He grabbed a change of clothes and hopped into the shower right fast. No more thongs for the night, Harry’s bottom couldn’t take anymore. He wore a pair of tailored black slacks with thin silver pinstripes, and a dark purple turtleneck with a silver and dove gray vest over top of it. It was a bit fancy for a raising, but it had been laid out for him. He would say it was Jean-Claude, but Marcus sometimes snuck things in, and he had a strong liking for purple shades. Harry had a feeling that Marcus was looking for something to mark Harry as his own. Harry would have to think about that. He had his fur line torc around his throat with the gleaming diamond JC. It sat over top of the turtleneck and within view of anyone looking. His tattoo was an even more permanent fixture, surprise surprise. It was a 1x1 ice blue flaming bone scythe on the back of his neck. A perfect representation of Edward, and then there were the fur cuffs made with Micah’s leopard fur. A little piece of everyone was on him at all times. Harry didn’t mind it, but he knew that Marcus wanted something without telling him. 

He took Damian as his protection with him that night. 

“Your car… smells,” said Damian sitting regally in the passenger seat. His blood red hair stretched down his back and shoulders. His eyes were much like Harry’s with how emerald and bright they were. He was much more comfortable in the clothes that Harry ended up choosing for him. 

Somehow, Damian had roped him into getting Harry to dress him. He was in a basic emerald button down and nice tailored slacks. Damian seemed to like it. At least, Harry thought he liked it. He couldn’t be sure with the Danish Vampire at times. He was a hard one to pin down. He was so calm. Almost like Edward, but not at the same time. It was like he didn’t have much will or a care where or what he did, except being around Harry. Fitting for a vampire servant. 

Harry was still trying to figure that one out. How does someone like Harry, who was supposed to be human enough, have a servant and that servant be a vampire?

Harry snickered. “Sorry about that.” 

Damian hummed. “At least you’re well fed. Jean-Claude is nervous about you not having a pomme on hand.” 

“I don’t need one,” said Harry. 

That had been an ongoing argument for weeks now. It had ensued in a lot of fighting on his men’s part. All of them squabbling, and getting downright childish in their debates over who Harry should let in as a temporary fix. 

It was insane, and often made Harry so flushed and irritated that he had to leave the room. He was really surprised by Edward. He seemed very emphatic on who he wanted or more importantly  _ not _ wanted. 

Edward wanted Damian or Gregory. Strange, the man didn’t seem to like redheads, but he had an odd empty fondness for Damian. He was also neutral toward the blond twins, but he seemed to prefer Gregory a little more. He seemed to like ordering the leopard around, and often had him with Peter when he wanted the boy watched. It made Gregory glow with pride that their Gardien would actually trust him to that degree. He liked Damian because Damian was a practical sort, and would never be able to betray or hurt Harry in any way. He was also a good alternative to protection, and Micah had whispered that he was sure that Edward liked the eyes. 

Jean-Claude disapproved on the grounds that he was a vampire, and he did not want another vampire wrapped around Harry. Possessive much? 

Marcus suggested Shang-Da. He was practical and would do what was needed, and never deviate. Harry disapproved completely, and not because he had no liking for Shang-Da, but because, well, no! Come on now! Shang-Da was like the favorite uncle that you just didn’t _ do _ . Shockingly, when he told Shang-Da this, the man actually laughed, and gave him a pat on the cheek like he would a little boy. 

Yeah. Just no. 

Micah’s suggestion was the worst of them all; he had thrown out Caleb’s name. Caleb was one of Micah’s, and was almost as devoted to Harry as Seth was. He was always after attention and always after being pet or touched by Harry to the point that Zane and Gregory had called him out on trying to hog Harry for himself. 

Everyone disapproved of that one, and so no one had gotten anywhere. 

So far Harry had been able to sate the ardeur. If he was at work for long enough one of his men would arrive, and be downstairs waiting for him to take him to _ lunch _ . Merlin, that sounded absolutely ridiculous. But, what else were they going to tell Craig or Mary? Every time someone different would be there. Even Jean-Claude had shown up a time or two and would sit in the lobby if it was late at night. This had the habit of making any woman in the vicinity go into a tizzy. Even Mary would be beside herself just staring at the lovely Master of the City. 

He could often be seen downstairs sitting with that frothy eye-catching white lace and a magazine in his hand. His long black curls flowing. It was now further down his back. Micah was the only one who would actually engage in conversation. Mary had been taken with him when they first met. But then, she was taken with them all, and then there was Marcus. 

Oh, and Harry didn’t think John Burke would ever be the same after a second run-in with Edward that had him frozen in memories that he could never verbally repeat. Manny, who knew Edward, would stop and talk to him for a few moments. Both had worked together before on hits and targets, but both had very different beliefs and methods. Manny didn’t like Edward’s extreme ways and Edward didn’t like Manny’s morals.

Then again, Manny wasn’t all that happy with Harry these days. One of his lovers being a vampire didn’t settle well with him, but like he’d once said, Harry hadn’t moved across the pond so that someone else could dictate his choices. 

Least to say that he had most of Animators very confused on who he was dating, and had yet to clue them in to the fact that it was all of them. 

Larry had let slip that there was an office pool going around, and Larry had placed a big bet with his ‘wild’ guess that Harry was with them all. No one believed it. No one thought it was possible, and so most of them had their money on Jean-Claude or Micah and maybe both, but not  _ all _ of them. 

Harry figured once the pot raised to a rather comfortable level he might actually reveal the truth. Bert would be so proud of him. 

“You are stubborn,” Damian said, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“And you're not?” 

“Maybe.” 

Damian seemed to have a fascination with Harry’s original calling of raising the dead. He would be shadowed beneath a tree, his bright eyes glistening as they watched the power fluctuation. It was more likely that Damian could feel it. A flush of power that would make him feel almost like a master without being one. 

Damian was over a thousand years old, but he would never be a master vampire. Harry had somehow tied the vampire’s life-force to him much in the same way that Jean-Claude had marked Harry through a series of random and accidental events. So now, Damian was able to experience a lot of new rushing power and even human food for the first time a thousand years. 

He’d been one of the rare vampires that the vicious council had taken pity on and granted him mercy by removing him from his original master. Unlike most vampires, Damian had only ever had one master in his thousand years of life. Most vampires were passed from one to another for various different reasons, but not Damian. So he was kind of set in his ways. 

Harry didn’t know about his former master, but he knew that she was someone that everyone feared, even Jean-Claude refused to say her name. It was like Voldemort all over again. In fact, they called her  _ She Who Must Not Be Named _ . It might have been what had shaped Damian. He was loose and lax. He never reacted, he never changed. He was so calm even under extreme duress. He had no opinions of his own at all. It was like his mind and instincts had been thoroughly scrubbed clean. He was whatever his master wanted, though he did have a slight dislike for Jean-Claude or maybe that was envy? Envy of how fast Jean-Claude grew into his power. Of how Jean-Claude could seize what he wanted at any time, and never deviate. But other than that it was like he didn’t care or didn’t know how to care. 

From cemetery to cemetery, Damian would become a bit more animated, and a little less quiet, and seemed almost sulky by the time Harry was done for the night. It was coming upon four o’ clock in the morning by now, and they had to get back before day broke out. Edward and Peter would be leaving in the morning for their deer hunting. Edward had promised to take Teddy with them when he was a bit older. 

Damian disappeared to his basement like apartment, and Harry climbed the steps to his room. He soon crawled in over top of Edward who was his only bed companion tonight. Micah had been out of town for a few days and Jean was busy with his businesses. Teddy sometimes revolved from room to room depending on his mood, but was in his own room for once. Harry settled down beside Edward who tossed the cover over his slight frame. 

“Any issue?” 

“Nope. I think you can rest up a bit.” 

“You better have someone with you at all times tomorrow, Little Raven. Promise me.” 

Harry snuggled down against Edward’s side. “Yep,” he said with a sigh. He swooped his arm across the man’s toned stomach, and instinctively ran his nose along the bare shoulder, and grazed his teeth along his flesh. “Bring me lots of venison to cook for you.” Harry pressed a kiss to the man’s chin, and in return he was stroked on the cheek. His head was tilted slightly and a very rare soft kiss was dropped on his mouth. Edward had a harshness about him that Harry really loved. He never deviated from the steel in his words. He never said what he didn’t mean. It’d taken a long time for Edward to come to terms with the changes and his rare ‘feelings’ for Harry. Amongst everything, Harry loved Edward’s realism. He loved all of them really. 

“I will.” An arm settled around him and Harry’s eyes drooped down, and that calm buzz that always traveled around with one of his men settled him down to sleep. But by morning Edward had vacated the bed, and all Harry had was a pillow with the man’s scent. Oh, and let’s not forget the gun sitting on the bed-side table. 

It wasn’t often that the house was quiet. Damian would be out for the rest of the daylight, and Micah wouldn’t be home until later that night. He’d traveled into Chicago, Christine knew a few independents there. Rafael had also given them a few numbers to some wererats that he was in constant communication with. He couldn’t just up and leave as easily as Micah could. The wererat population was even bigger than the wolves, and new ones were coming in or going out all the time. 

Jean-Claude was busy with negotiations, apparently an envoy of Belle Morte was coming into town in February. It didn’t sound like a fun Valentine’s Day. Vampire politics never were. What was especially difficult was getting an appropriate gift prepared. A lot of vampires did not understand what the word rape and unwilling meant. All of them had this notion that if it feels good and they have an orgasm that it can’t possibly be rape. Asher’s fear of her made it that much more obvious. 

It seemed that some vampires had really specific tastes. Enough so that it made everyone nervous, especially Asher. He was walking as though he were a human and barefoot on white hot coals at the mere mention of Musette. Harry was sure that after the vampire council came to visit that there was nothing they couldn’t handle, but Asher had a pessimism about him that was startling and tragic. It even grated on Edward’s steel nerves. It was only luck that Edward thought Asher was too pathetic to shoot. He would be no fun at all. 

Harry moved through the quiet house. It was a rare moment where very few people were there and it allowed him to finally catch up on some tasks he should have been doing as Jean-Claude’s human servant. His daytime voice. Harry wasn’t sure who had been doing this work the last two years, nor why Jean asked him to start doing so now, but Harry wouldn’t be accused of skipping out on work. Not if it helped strengthen the community and Jean’s position as Master of the City.

Thumbing through the stack of papers, Harry noticed alot of it dealt with JC Corporation which meant that Harry was already involved somehow since they shared many business interests. Harry paused and pulled out one packet in confusion. It looked like employee scheduling for Guilty Pleasures and The Laughing Corpse. Was he really expected to choose who was working when? Surely not… maybe he could delegate that to someone else. No way would he know who to schedule since he never spent a lot of time at either venue. Now he was really hoping that paychecks and accounting wasn’t included in the stack. He would definitely need to delegate those out. 

Flipping through a few more pages revealed contact information for the different companies that Jean worked with. Rafael’s construction company and Draco and Hermione’s law firm were the first two listed. Funny enough, Marcus’ direct line at the hospital was also on the list. Harry guessed that something he’d have to keep track of as Jean’s daytime voice was those in the ecosystem and supply chain of Jean’s investments. That should be easy enough to do, especially if Harry could find a way to make most of the contacts be from the shifter community.

He wasn’t playing favorites, really. Well… maybe a little bit. There was just so much talent in the community that got shut down simply for being a were. It really wasn’t fair. If Harry and Jean-Claude could find jobs for the talents on work done for their investments then it supported both the supernatural community and St. Louis as a whole. Not everyone could be a stripper or stage entertainment at the comedy club. Hermione and Draco’s firm was a good start and Rafael’s construction company really did take off, they were good and fast workers, and often got everything done to higher specifications than asked. Even a lot of humans had taken to hiring them, of course there always ended up being bidding wars that sometimes required Draco or Hermione to step in and smooth over, but it was only a small growth in a very big pool of preternaturals that were counting on them. 

By the time he had everything organized he looked up at the time to see that it was almost five. Merlin, had he really been working for this long? 

Teddy was out today Christmas shopping, and so he wasn’t expected to be back until later in the evening, and Nathaniel was coming over on cooking duty today. He along with Zane, Caleb, Violet, and Cherry shared Elvira Drew’s old house that Harry had bought for them. Viv tended to spend her time at Danse Macabre and had her own apartment down the block. She was a brilliant whiz at math. Hm, maybe he could delegate the scheduling to her? She’d love to be included and have something more to do. Only Noah stayed at Harry’s house, and for now Gina as she had to be watched around the clock. He had an appointment in an hour, and then he had to get to the cemetery for another raising. Time alone often sped by at a supernatural speed thanks to how little of it he was afforded. Not that Harry needed a lot of alone time. He didn’t like it too much these days. 

He was so used to people that it was bizarre to hear nothing but the mouse wheel in the den going every so often. Cocoa also slithered in and out from time to time. Everyone was getting used to her. Peter was still a bit weary, but he was slowly coming to terms with the oddities in the house. It was far and away from how he lived with Donna that was for sure. 

Hm, Draco would be proud of him. He stood and stretched, and decided to get dressed for the evening. Most people’s day started at around six or seven o’ clock in the morning. Harry’s started at night unless Teddy was in school. 

He finally dressed for the day, and set a new pot of coffee on a slow drip so that it would always be hot and ready for anyone.

It was mid December, and the temperatures had dropped to the point that it felt like mid-January. Harry had always had a sensitivity to the cold weather, and he snuggled beneath the leather and fur coat as he crossed over to the Escalade in the lot. 

He knew Edward had made him promise to have someone with him, but he took that to mean that he should have someone with him at night when doing his raisings, and since there would be a whole building full of Animators, he was not technically alone. 

Yeah, Edward would probably scoff and bust his arse for that flimsy excuse. Harry could take care of himself. He was more than strong enough to curse anyone who came at him. He knew it was Edward’s way of caring about him. A way of loving him, and making sure he was always provided for, but goodness he was not the Prince of Wales. He did not need around the clock security. Marcus would not agree. He and Edward were the two biggest when it came to Harry’s safety and security. 

Surely, Raina didn’t have this kind of level of protection? He couldn’t see anyone hovering over that crazy sadistic woman. Marcus was quite visceral about it. 

After a long pause in downtown traffic Harry swung into the Animator’s lot, and sighed with relief as the heat that flowed the moment he entered. Mary was tapping away at a computer behind her desk, and she beamed. 

“Good evening, Harry!” 

“Hello, Mary.” He approached her, and she handed him a stack of papers with client names and dates on them. Not all of them were for the night. Most of them were missives on where he would be going for his raisings. “Who is my first?” 

“A Leo Harlan. He’ll be here in about twenty minutes. You’re actually on time, surprise surprise.” 

“Don’t tell Bert. He’ll expect promptness from now on.” 

She threw her head back and laughed. “How’s Micah?” she asked grinning. 

“He’s out of town right now on business and am expecting him back sometime tonight,” he said, flipping through the stack of appointments. He smiled, and didn’t wait for her to prompt him anymore as he headed over to the elevator that would take him to his floor and office. 

He passed by Jamison who gave him a respectful nod. Most Animators kept odd hours, some came in at midnight. Some came in at seven in the morning, and most were never in the same place at the same time. 

Harry slipped into his office, and prepared the coffee as he shrugged off his jacket. He adjusted the blood red clinging turtleneck before sitting down behind his desk, and flipping through the stack more thoroughly. Bert would be unhappy with the snug black jeans tucked into dark red calf high boots, but tan shades did not look good on him. Not like it did Marcus. 

He had another raising to do that very night, and he was not looking forward to it. He’d already met with Mrs. Bennington and her lawyer, and he had a hunch that there was going to be a lot of police security. The Insurance Company claimed that Mr. Bennington’s death was a suicide, and were refusing to pay out, and Mrs. Bennington and her lawyers were fighting, and guess what? Harry was the one who got to raise him and ask if he’d offed himself or not. Either way someone was going to start fighting. 

Leo Harlan was a medium height and medium built man. Everything about him was plain and simple, forgettable. His skin was neither too pale or too tan. His eyes were brown, and he looked entirely unremarkable. He wore a businessman’s suit that had been in style for decades, and would likely be in style by the time Jean-Claude was a thousand. His shirt was white, his tie neatly knotted, and the navy suit jacket hung perfectly tailored and layered. 

“Mr. Harlan, correct?” Harry stood and extended his hand, and the man never changed face or expression as he reached his not too small or too big hands and shook. It was firm and normal. 

“Harry Potter-Black?” Mr. Harlan’s voice was just as unremarkable as he was. 

“Would you like coffee or ice water?” 

“No thank you.” 

“Please sit.” So he did, and Harry sank back down. “What can I do for you?” 

“I want you to raise my ancestor, Mr. Potter-Black.” 

“Okay,” said Harry. At first, he thought nothing of it. He sensed nothing from this man at all, but the silent staring, the blank watchful eyes gave him a small inkling that there was something going on that he wasn’t being clued into. “Just so you know I do not raise for entertainment purposes. So I need your reason and who you want raised.” 

“You need my reason?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“I get necrophiliacs from time to time, and weird rich kids wanting a zombie for their parties. I want to know what I’m raising and why I’m raising it.” 

“Does the why truly matter?” asked Mr. Harlan, and that right there was Harry’s first clue that something wasn’t quite right. He didn’t know what, but Mr. Harlan’s reaction pointed to something off.

He often liked to get all the key details out of the way, and especially the ones that Harry would and would not do, and saying the word necrophiliac was the same as calling someone a pedophile. No one liked it.  _ Everyone _ had a visceral reaction, but this man had no reaction at all. Now, he found something remarkable. 

“It does because I’m the one responsible for raising the dead. I’m the one responsible for it’s care.” 

“It’s a corpse.” 

“It’s still mine until I put it back in the ground.” 

“I do not have aspirations with the dead such as that,” said Mr. Harlan. 

“That’s good to know. So, what ancestor is it you want raised? Also, I’d like to have a proper reason why.” Harry smiled politely when he said it. 

The man smiled too, and it left his eyes as unaffected as Edward’s. He shifted, and was Harry being deceived or was his suit jacket a little heavier than it should have been? Harry silently cursed, he seriously wasn’t wearing a shoulder holster was he? Harry hadn’t noticed when he walked in, and Edward would subtract points for it. 

But, then maybe he wasn’t? Oh, who was Harry kidding? Harry always had to get the questionable ones. It didn’t matter where the gun was, Harry was confident that he could stop this man in a second from drawing it. He better or too many lovers would be very angry with him. 

“What exactly is it that you do for a living, Mr. Harlan?” Harry asked, breaking into his talk about his family tree. He drew a slightly deeper breath, settling in his chair, just a bit. It was the closest thing Harry had seen to tension in him. 

Typically, people didn’t like dealing with those who raised the dead. It made them nervous, and Harlan wasn’t nervous. He hadn’t jumped or flinched or glared when Harry subtly asked if he was a necrophiliac. He simply sat across from him with chilling, nondescript eyes that were pleasant but empty. 

Harry was sleeping with a sociopath. He should have known. Maybe he was just too comfortable with Edward? Familiarity bred a sense of security after all. 

Harry sat his coffee mug gently on the desk, and began to circle the top of the rim. It wasn’t like he had to draw his own gun, but keeping his fingers free for a sudden freezing spell was always a good idea. 

“I want you to raise one of my ancestors, Mr. Potter-Black. I don’t see where my work has any relevance here.” 

“Humor me,” said Harry sweetly with a head tilt. 

“Why should I?” 

“If you don’t, I’ll refuse to take your case.” 

Harlan’s gaze never changed. His expression didn’t either. He was smooth and blank and careful. Most reacted rather angrily to him when he turned them down or threatened them. 

“Mr. Vaughn, your boss, has already taken my money. He accepted on your behalf.” 

Harry chuckled softly, still running a finger along the top of the cooling coffee. “Actually, Bert might be our business manager at Animators, but he has no real say. Besides, I own the building.” His magic flared and it began to heat the coffee. Harlan watched the steam begin to rise, and the first real reaction seeped through his gaze. “Bert handles the business side of things because he likes money. We are all partners, but I am a special case. I can do whatever I want.” 

His face became more closed and secretive. It was like looking at a bad painting with no real life to it. He was good, Harry offered, but Edward was far better than him. 

“They said you were scary,” said Mr. Harlan reaching over and laying his palms flat on the desk. Harry saw the heaviness again in his jacket. 

“Me?” Harry tried for innocence, and he knew he did a good job because the scrutiny increased. “And who is this they?” 

“Everyone I inquired about you.” 

“Why me? Jamison is here. He could take your case.” 

“I don’t want them.” 

_ Oh boy. _ Harry thought. “Yet you want me?” He let more steam rise from his coffee, and it began to form spiralling patterns in the air. 

Mr. Harlan watched it, no fascination on his face or in his eyes, but he was taking that small bit in. It was so innocent and innocuous, but it spoke of mysteries. It spoke of more. It said that Harry did not need guns or any of that to get out of jams. 

And suddenly the tension rose, thick and heavy like invisible lightning in the room. No doubt about it. He smiled, but this time it was a real smile. No fake or pretenses. It was a similar smile that Edward often gave when he saw a challenge ahead of him. Rawhead and Bloody Bones anyone? He’d been positively orgasmic at the idea of killing it, and then there was the immortal chicken, ahem, swanmane. Harry had brought Edward a lot of fun over the years. He could make that man orgasm without even touching him. Just give him something good and challenging to track, and Harry had him. But Harlan wasn’t Edward. No one was Edward. But, he was amused. 

“I’m a contract killer, but I’m not here for you, Harry Potter-Black.” 

Harry then smiled sweetly, and let go of the steaming cup of coffee and settled back with all the comfort of a cat on the back of a soft couch. “That’s all you had to tell me, Mr. Harlan. I’m not that judgy.” 

“Unless I’m a necrophiliac?” Almost like amusement, but not quite. 

“Or a pedophile. You know how it goes. Everyone has their limits.” 

“Your lover doesn’t,” said Mr. Harlan boldly. Harry was tempted to ask which one, but Harry knew he was talking about Edward. Everyone knew Edward at least by name and reputation. “Death is an interesting persona isn’t he?”

“You better not be here trying to usurp his position. I don’t think he’d appreciate it,” said Harry. 

Harlan laughed, but it was empty. No crinkle at the eyes or around the mouth. He was like one of those loose rubber bands. “I haven’t come to St. Louis to kill anyone. If I was, I would have informed Death, professional courtesy and all that. It’s never a good idea for one of us to take a job where another has set up base unless invited in. I really am interested in getting my ancestor raised from the dead.” 

“I can get on board with that. So, why? Most contract killers like things staying dead typically.” 

“First, I have to wonder when did you know?” 

“I didn’t,” said Harry. Harlan’s eyes narrowed. “Honest, Mr. Harlan. I had no idea what you were, but your unremarkableness stands out as quite remarkable all on it’s own.” 

“You knew but you didn’t care? Then why ask?” 

“Because I knew you’d care if I asked.” 

It was quiet, and Harlan held his gaze, and then he threw his head back and laughed. “I see why the Death of my world has you as his lover. You are not boring in the slightest are you? You weren’t nervous.” 

“Nope.” 

“You’re just curious?” 

“Like a kitty cat.” 

“I’ve heard about your reputation. You noticed the weight of it, and you only asked because of your curiosity. To get me to react, hm? You are good at getting men like me to react, aren’t you?” 

“Double entendre?” If Harry was being honest, he was actually enjoying his back and forth with Harlan. He wasn’t nervous or scared. He was kind of fascinated. Bloody Hell, there was really something wrong with him. Either Edward would be amused or he would be pissed. It all depended on which way his mind went. “I don’t care about you being armed or not. Everyone is armed with something these days.” 

“Are you? I don’t notice anything, but then you don’t really need it do you?” He looked at the coffee cup that was still steaming. “You make things hotter.” 

“Or colder. Much much colder.” He looked at his cup of coffee, and let his magic play causing the steam to disappear, and the cup began to sweat before tendrils of ice began to creep along the edges. 

“Now you’re just flirting with me,” said Mr. Harlan. 

And for all of Harry’s bravado, he blushed crimson before he could muffle it. “Am not!” 

“I think you’re so used to men like us that you don’t notice yourself.” Harlan had that cold empty amusement. Harry let the ice continue to wrap around his mug until it bloomed into a sort of flower over the top. “I must admit it is a refreshing moment for me. I do not typically provoke the reactions you tend to have.” 

“What reaction are you provoking? I’m just asking a series of questions from a client.” He was also trying to subtly warn this man that he could very well take care of himself, and that he didn’t need anyone dying on his office floor. Bert would never forgive him, and maybe Harry had been too comfortable. He had been playing with the assassin because it just came so fucking naturally to him. “What is it you really want, Mr. Harlan?” 

He smiled. “As I’ve said, I really do want my ancestor raised from the dead. I didn’t lie about that.” He seemed to think for a second. “Strange, but I haven’t lied about anything.” He looked puzzled. “It’s been a long time since that was true.”

“Even your name?” Harry queried as Harlan reached for the crystalized cup. He lifted it, and touched the top of the spiky blooming flower. 

His smile while still empty intensified in that cool way of his. “You don’t need to be lied to do you? They say you can raise a corpse that’s almost two hundred years old.” 

“Maybe.” 

“I heard an animator could raise almost anything, if they were willing to do a human sacrifice.” his voice was quiet. 

Harry tilted his head. “Some might. Some animators could raise a few hundred years worth of corpses with the help of a human sacrifice.” 

“But you won’t?” 

“Do I need to?” 

“Interesting way you say that. Are you telling me you can raise without human sacrifice? I thought that was impossible.” He was still playing with the coffee cup running his fingers along the top as if trying to see if it would melt with the touch of his skin. It was cold, but it hadn’t started to cry with his body temperature. 

“Not impossible. Difficult, yes.” 

“Can you do it?” 

“You wouldn’t care either way would you? If I used a human sacrifice or not.” 

“You’re right. I don’t care, but I am curious.” 

“Curious?” 

“Rumor has said that you’ve done it before.” 

“I do it many different ways. It all depends on my mood, Mr. Harlan.” He smiled sweetly at this. 

“I would like that coffee now if you don’t mind,” he said from nowhere, and Harry knew that meant he would have to have his back to the man. It was a challenge. A dare, and Harry decided that he was Gryffindor enough to take it as he pushed back from his chair, and stood. 

Harlan kept his eyes trained on Harry who swayed across the room, and lifted an animator’s cup, and then he turned his back. “Sugar?” 

“Sweets are delectable.” 

Harry could see Harlan not even looking at him from the reflection of the glass windows. It was almost full night outside by now, and only the bright downtown street lights cast across the surface allowing a perfect mirror. 

Harry dunked sugar into the cup, and then he turned, and was vaguely surprised to find the man’s gun was sitting on Harry’s desk. He looked as if he hadn’t moved. It sat there so innocently, gleaming silver. 

Harry extended the cup, and Harlan raised his eyes to meet his. 

“You want yours back?” 

“You seem to enjoy it.” 

“It is intriguing.” He took the coffee, and sipped it without care for the steam. Harry slid back around to his desk. “We’ve been at the foreplay for a while, maybe we should get a move on?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one stalling, Mr. Harlan.” He lifted Harlan’s gun, and studied it. It was a beretta. “I don’t need to see your gun.” He slid it back across and Harlan took it in his palm. 

“I’ve followed the records of my family in this country back as far as I can, but my original ancestor is on no official documents. I believe he gave a false name from the beginning. Until I get his name, I can’t track them through Europe. I very much wish to do that.” 

For some reason, Harry believed him. “Raise him, ask his real name, his real reason for coming to this country, and put him back?” 

“Yes.” 

“Reasonable.” 

“So you’ll do it?” Harlan placed his coffee down, but was still playing with Harry’s cup. 

Harry nodded. “Yes, I can do that. But, my boss Bert might take you for a ride.” 

“I have money, Mr. Potter-Black, never fear.” 

“I don’t fear. Just don’t like seeing people ripped off.” 

“Is it because you’re special?” Harlan finally placed Harry’s cup on the table. It didn’t crack or splinter and it was still the same cold ice. 

“I don’t know if that’s what I’d call it.” 

Harlan reached into his suit jacket, and Harry watched carefully, but Harlan was watching the cup as it began to suddenly melt as if in warning. He smiled. “It’s only a credit card, Mr. Potter-Black.” 

“You can finish the paperwork and pay in the outer office.” Harry knew their appointment was coming to a close. Harlan relaxed, but didn’t at the same time. His hand withdrew from his jacket. “You can take the cup with you if you like.” 

“This one?” He pointed at the one that had started to melt, but it stopped when he pulled his hand out of his jacket. 

It was Teddy’s mug. “No, sorry. It’s a special mug. But I can do yours if you’d like a souvenir.” 

“Hm, maybe some other time.” Harry stood with Mr. Harlan, and they shook hands. As he headed for the door, he hesitated. “When can you do the job?” 

Harry lifted his scheduler. “I’m booked nearly solid for the next two weeks, though I do have a Wednesday or Thursday opening. Can probably give you a price reduction for having to wait so long. Usually holidays are lax, but not this year. I guess people are getting bolder,” he said casually. 

“I don’t see anything on your Monday and Tuesday schedule.” 

_ Bloody Hell, he could see the writing from across the room _ , Harry thought not reacting at all. “I have to sleep sometime, Mr. Harlan. I’m the only one in this country who can do back to back raisings, but even I have my limits.” 

“I can’t help but notice that next Tuesday is the night of the full moon,” he said in a quiet voice. 

“Yes, Mr. Harlan it is,” said Harry, not reacting at all. 

“Will you be sleeping or doing something else then?”

“Depends on what you consider ‘something else’.”

“Maybe I should have said someone instead of something.” Harry fought down another blush.

“There’s not many hours in the night or day at times.” 

“Is that so? They say that you haven’t worked on the night of the full moon for a few months now.” 

“Well, you know how big things can get during the full moon,” he said casually. 

“In that tiny body of yours?” Harlan boldly turned his body, and leaned casually against the door as though he were fascinated. 

Harry once again had to squash the blood that threatened to pocket into his cheeks. “You’d be surprised how well.” Merlin, he could not afford to be drumming up images right now. But it was starting to make him warm and flustered. 

“You don’t deny it,” said Harlan. “Rumor also says that you got cut up by a shifter a few months back. But I don’t see a scar in sight, except the lightning bolt on your head.” 

“Do I need to strip?” Harry asked slyly. “Do you want to examine more parts of me?” He couldn’t help but push as the whirring in the pit of his stomach began to rise. Shit. It’d been almost twenty four hours since he’d fed last. He’d been doing so good, but one mere mention of the full moon, his men, and the flirtation was beginning to be too much. It was like opening a door and letting a rush of heat into a cold room. If it was outside, he didn’t notice it. But once that door opened...

Harlan smirked. “Only if I won’t find myself on Death’s list.”

“It depends, Mr. Harlan,” said Harry, trying to keep his breathing even. “Does my personal Death like you or not?” 

“Neither. So, are you a lycanthrope?” he asked boldly. 

“Is that what you really want to know?” Harry asked. He tried to stamp down the roar inside of him and keep his breathing even. By now the mug on the desk was melting at a rapid pace and the spiky blooming flower was softening and rounding at the edges. 

Harlan noticed it. “I know you move in circles. I know the company you keep. How does he feel about it?” 

“Death is always a watchful sort.” Merlin, this guy needed to leave and now. “Is Wednesday good for you?” He tried to get everything back on track. 

Harlan moved back towards the desk and touched the melting flower while keeping eye contact with Harry. “Does Death need to like someone?” He looked like a predator, and all of Harry’s senses tingled in that moment. 

“Not particularly.” He was standing there behind the desk, relieved that it was the barrier, but Harlan had to leave. He had to leave now, and Harry had to get out of the building. But Harlan made no move to leave, he was examining Harry, and by now the mug was fully melted and running along the desk. It soaked Harry’s calendar and scheduler. Someone was going to be pissed off about that. 

He couldn’t help but notice the pulse in Harlan’s neck, and he could hear the thumping of his heart. It was a steady thrum, and it was like the ardeur was highlighting all the secrets hidden. All the unremarkable became remarkable. 

“You should go,” said Harry. “I’m sure you have a long night ahead of you.” 

“Not as long as yours I’m betting.” 

“I’ve had worse.”

“I could fix that.” Harlan’s smirk didn’t reach his eyes.  _ Just like Edward, _ Harry thought. His ardeur must have agreed as it seemed to swell and push at his boundaries. “Why the sudden rush?” Harlan’s eyes swept over Harry’s body.

He could feel the enticement, the desire rising up - his lust, and Harry wished to consume it. He tried to push it aside. “I have clients…” It was hollow, and Harry boldly stepped around as if to lead Harlan to the door. To try and get him out of here and away from him, and that was a mistake because Harlan was right there. 

He did not smell of expensive cologne or any of that, but he did smell good. His blood was rising, sloshing through him, and Harry didn’t resist when hands stronger than they looked seized his wrists, and he was right there. Right up against the cold blooded assassin, and staring into empty pitiless eyes of darkness. It was a fire that pushed him, a fire that had him reaching up onto his toes and kissing Harlan causing that desire to push at the edge. It spilled over and through Harry making the ardeur come alive. 

He could not remember undressing, and he most definitely could not remember his own magic calling out and meeting the ardeur as it reached out to seize all that it could. 

The buttons on Harlan’s crisp white shirt popped as Harry kissed and bit, trailing lust and sex down the man’s mouth to his neck and chest. His wild black hair was seized, and it didn’t matter to him if his back was to the assassin or not. His ardeur cared for nothing but drinking and satiating it’s need, and despite the cold lifeless exterior, the assassin was full of pent up lust and desire. So well controlled, so tightly coiled that Harry wanted to rip it apart. 

He did remember the man shoving him face down onto the desk. Pencil holders and schedulers went crashing to the floor with every kiss and sucking bite. Fingers and hands worked at Harry’s exposed hips, and he arched when spit soaked fingers slipped between his cheeks. 

It was not a nice fuck. It was not clean and gentle. Harry was on his stomach, and Harlan had released himself. Harry used his magic to make sure he was coated, and that was all he could do before Harlan gripped him by the back of the hair and pushed his swollen cock up into Harry as far as he could go. 

A scream of pleasure tore through him as the pain and hungering need echoed. He reached back and seized the man by his hip, encouraging the assault. His blood boiled and sloshed as he sucked at Harlan’s hidden lust and desires. He brought it out with every visceral push inside of Harry. 

“Fuck…” It tore out of Harlan’s throat as Harry was pulled by his hair up to meet his exposed chest. Fingers wrapped around his throat. “What the fuck are you?” He brought the assassin over and over, and he couldn’t stop. 

Harry glared behind him. “Just fuck me!” And Harlan did, thrusting with a desperate hunger that leaked out of him. His ardeur collected it, making it swell and rise. His body vibrated and convulsed to Harlan’s motions. He was used to rough and wild, and Harry gave him as good as he got. He pushed his ass back to claim more until he was riding backwards against the cock that tried to break him. 

But no way was this man going to break him when his men have not, and so he smirked and rode. He rode Harlan so hard that he could feel and taste the man’s blood without it spilling. He sucked every ounce of his lust as he begged for it harder and for more. He didn’t want it to stop, he wanted to keep drinking. So strong… it flew through him, and he was soon flipped on his back and he dragged Harlan down on top of him. He kissed and bit the man, shoving his tongue inside as he laid there on his desk spread wide. Harlan’s hips slapping and thrusting inside. He left biting trails along the man’s neck until he was so lost that his moans exploded in an uncontrollable way. He tried to push himself further into Harry as if trying to fit all of him.

His orgasms hit a peak and he fell over the edge, clutching around Harlan who pulled and slammed; arcing into Harry as his own releases poured inside. Harry drank, filling the hungry ardeur as the air crackled with a power and energy that Harlan had likely never felt in his entire life. The contract killer was shaking and convulsing as if he couldn’t stop as if all the pleasure in the world was about to be his own undoing. Harry kissed and sucked it right out of him. 

Finally, Harlan gave a last deep gulping breath, and he slumped on top of Harry with most of his weight. 

Harry caught his breath rather easily. Harlan was after all, not his men, not his wolf, not his leopard or his vampire. Or any of his overactive leopards. He was a man. He was a sociopath, but he was just a man. He was all human. He was hardly special, but he supposed in a pinch he would do. 

_ Fuck, _ Edward was going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kimpatsu has also started posting One Shots in her series within the Dragon Age:Inquisition fandom if anyone is interested. https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479224


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone curious about number ratios regarding sexual scenes there are a total of about 3-4k word sex scenes (two more that I remember best) and the total word count for this story is 105k. The scenes seem like a lot for anyone annoyed because they all happen at the very beginning. Later in the series we do plan some side story PWP but they won't be needed for enjoyment purposes of the overall series itself. We try to keep to the spirit of the books and our enjoyment for writing saucy scenes while changing things around and exploring new options.
> 
> There are none in this chapter. So here you go, enjoy!

#  Chapter Three

Leo Harlan had left in a very drunken and intoxicated state. He’d left his card for Harry to call him, and then ambled out with his clothes having been repaired. Harry was already dressed, and his head hung low as he realized that the one thing he feared from this damn ardeur had happened. 

He fucked a client. 

Oh man, he was in so much trouble. His hands buried themselves into his hair, pulling slightly in frustration. A noise outside made him flinch, and he hoped to Merlin that it wasn’t Jamison who had heard them, but then the door cracked. 

“Baby?” 

_ Shit! _ His head snapped up. 

Harry let out a cry. “You’re late! You’re so late!” 

“Yikes…” Micah stepped in and stared around the destroyed office. Harry was still on his messed up desk. Water and other things were all over it, and Harry was admittedly shaking. “Let me guess, the guy who took the stairs four floors down and fell down the last flight?” 

Harry moaned and cradled his face into his hands. “Sorry… so sorry.” 

“Why are you alone?” Micah asked, closing the door. “I thought someone would be with you?” 

“Everyone’s gone! I had an appointment. I thought I’d be alright…” He staggered off the filthy desk and Micah wrapped his arms around him, his leopard curling around Harry’s. It was something Micah’s beast tended to do now whenever they were close. He’d come out and interact with Harry’s, she never complained and greatly enjoyed the attention. “It was just an hour… just a client. I was fine. I didn’t feel anything rise up in me, and then…” He took deep shuddering breaths as Micah rubbed circles in his back. It helped Harry come to terms with his raging emotions, but the dripping guilt still lingered. Here Micah was consoling him for fucking a random client! He had technically cheated on them. 

“What triggered it?” 

“He… was like Edward,” Harry confessed as he pressed deeper into Micah’s embrace; both wanting and not wanting the comfort his Nimir-Raj provided. “Contract killer.” 

Micah frowned and pulled back. “What? You let a contract killer in here?” 

“He wasn’t after me,” said Harry flatly. “He just wants an ancestor raised. He wasn’t after me. He had enough respect to know whose home base St. Louis is, and said professionals don’t encroach unless they’ve asked permission first. It’s one of their codes. But that’s not the point, the point is…  _ I fucked a client! _ ” His voice got a little higher, and his breathing became sharp, and the room was spinning. 

“Head between the knees,” Micah ordered gently bending Harry down so that he could breathe, his leopard rumbling trying to calm Harry’s own. Harry could feel his beasts were just as agitated as himself. 

Micah continued to rub small circles in Harry’s back, threading up through his hair. “Did you enjoy it at least?” 

Harry let out a noise of despair. “Micah…!” 

“Well, we need to look on the optimistic side.” 

He choked and raised his head to look at the smirk on Micah’s face. “Why aren’t you mad? I cheated on you guys.” 

Micah smiled softly and shook his head. “Don’t think of it like that, Baby. We knew this would happen. Someday. Just didn’t really expect it so soon. It’s why you need a pomme. Why we’ve been trying to find someone.” 

Harry shook his head slowly at that. “What are the odds? Someone like Edward walks through my door the first time I’m alone. I really enjoyed my moment alone you know. It was nice not being followed for a change.” 

“They only do it because they care about you. It’s their way of loving you.” 

“You’re loving me to death,” Harry said flatly, making Micah laugh and cup his cheeks. 

“Probably are, Baby. But you’re too precious not to guard, and with the ardeur you saw how it could get out of hand. You get used to it. Noah is downstairs right now waiting on us. You get used to it, and eventually you can be alone even with them around.” Micah kissed him tenderly. 

“You’re mad. I don’t want a pomme.” 

“You don’t really have a choice now, Baby,” said Micah. “We tried it your way, and this is the result.” 

“Stop sounding like Edward,” Harry growled, pushing at his Nimir-Raj only to be grabbed by the shoulders and brought closer. 

“You should clean up. Looks like you did enjoy it,” said Micah noticing all the fluids on the table.

Harry made a noise when Micah squeezed him tighter. “Others have to use this desk. I need to scrub it. Yeah, scrub it. Clean, mmm, that will help!” He was off now to the cabinet in the corner, and Micah just laughed and watched him wash and scrub the desk clean. 

Micah picked up the soaked scheduler and papers. “Pity I couldn’t have watched.” Harry grumbled. “Was he good?” 

“Shut up!” he squeaked. His eyes going a bit wider than they should have, making Micah chuckle some more. 

“No, you have to answer me. I want to know if he was at least good.” 

Harry considered this. “He was okay. He wasn’t you guys.” 

Micah, and his leopard, preened. “Course not. So, a contract killer wants to raise the dead? Are you sure it wasn’t a ploy?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, Edward, I am pretty sure it’s not. Oh wait, you’re Micah, not Edward,” he snarked, he poked the man in the chest making Micah snag his wrist and bring him closer. 

“Haha, you taste very distinct. I guess it doesn’t bother me too much because I know it’s bothering you more.” 

“Besides, he’s paying an exorbitant amount to have his ancestor raised. There are plenty of easier and more free ways to try and kill me if that’s what he was going for.” 

Micah considered this. “He didn’t really look like much to me, what about him appealed to you?” 

Harry’s cheeks were still a dusty red, and they deepened. “I… er.... Might have accidentally flirted with him.” 

“Accidentally?” Micah folded his arms. “How do you accidentally do it?” 

“He’s an assassin, a contract for hire. It was easy, and I felt too comfortable!” Harry mumbled. “All Edward’s fault.” 

“Is he as good as Edward?” 

“No one is as good as Edward, but he was close. I think he was high on the chain of professionals. High enough to know Edward or at least know his name and do his homework. High enough to have respect, and honor a code. He was also high enough to be the most unremarkable man I ever met.” 

“Yet you fucked him. You were attracted enough to let the ardeur take hold?” Micah smiled. “You really are a bizarre person, Harry.” He pressed one last kiss to Harry’s forehead. 

“I’m a freak!” Harry growled, and when he was done he threw the rag onto his now sterile desk. “A freak. I do not have random sex. I do not have casual sex. I do not like men I first meet.” 

“You liked me.” 

“You’re different.” 

“How?” 

“You’re Micah!” said Harry shifting uncomfortably. “Plus, Jean-Claude liked you.” 

“No, I think you just liked my fat cock,” Micah teased. 

Harry squawked and he flailed out of Micah’s grip. “Micah! No more teasing me. I’m already upset. Don’t make it worse.” 

“I saw you staring at my cock. It’s okay. Most do.” 

Harry looked at the smirk. “Fuck, you’ve gotten Jean-Claude’s cockiness. That’s the last thing I need in my life! Another man way too sure of himself.” He pushed only for Micah to laugh and pull him back. 

Harry sighed and swooped his arms around his lovely swimmer’s body, and he nuzzled into Micah's neck. It was times like these that he loved them being so equal in height. He didn’t have to lean up on his toes. He didn’t have to strain to reach all of Micah’s lovely places. He could just move in.

“You’re not a freak, Baby. That’s like calling Jean-Claude a freak, and you don’t think he’s one.” 

Harry sighed against Micah’s skin. “Why couldn’t you have been early?” 

“I’m so sorry,” Micah folded his fingers into Harry’s hair. “I wish I was too. But, we do need to see to you having a pomme. At least until you control this.” 

“Everyone’s going to be so mad at me.” 

“Disappointed, yes. Mad, no. It’ll just vindicate them because they will be right. You can see that.” 

“Practical.” 

“Mhmm. You’ll have to take their  _ I told you so’s _ , but no one will be angry about something you couldn’t control.” 

“Think Edward will let him live?” Harry asked slightly worried about Mr. Harlan now he was calming down. 

“Depends. You’d have to ask him to get a straight answer.” Micah answered honestly. “I can only guarantee that I won’t be doing anything to your client.”

“I have to go to Lindel Cemetery in an hour or so,” said Harry softly, drawing back with a sigh. 

“Are you up for it?” 

“It was just sex.” 

“There you go. It was just sex. Nothing more, and nothing less,” said Micah. 

“I didn’t want to.” 

“Part of you must have. You were flirting with him.” 

“Just because you flirt with someone doesn’t mean you want to fuck them.” 

“No, but part of you did. You saw Edward, so you were attracted. There is nothing wrong with that.” 

“Everything is wrong with that. For one, I didn’t have your permission or anyone’s, and for another I don’t need another man! How many times do I have to say this?” 

“You said that about Marcus, and he’s become one of us.”

“But, this was a stranger. It took two months before I slept with Marcus.” 

“I was a stranger.” 

“Stop that! Stop sounding so practical. Just agree with me.” 

“You want me to agree with you even though I don’t agree with you?” Micah laughed. “Really?” 

“Yes?” Harry tried in a pitiful tone with a pout. 

Micah stroked Harry’s cheeks, and then he kissed him so softly and gently that he could almost float. He caressed Harry's body, and it calmed him and his raging emotions back down to it’s normal tempo. “Fine. You were very stupid for coming here alone, and you never should have fucked a stranger. Even if you couldn’t help it.” Harry snickered, and rubbed his nose down Micah’s chin. “Do you want a spanking?” 

“Not right now. I’m still working.” 

“Oh, I bet this office got the workout of its life. Is this the first time?” 

“No, the first time was Jean-Claude.” 

“Good, so much for small favors.” 

“Did anyone hear me?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

That was the only relief Harry had, and before leaving he stopped in at the bathroom to wash himself over. When he returned Micah was drying his scheduler and papers in front of the heater against the wall. 

Harry thought it was so cute how Micah always tried to help him out. It was hard to beat himself up when Micah wouldn’t let him. He wanted to wallow and be sorrowful, and let the shame be his punishment. But whenever Micah looked at him, his lovely triangular features and chartreuse leopard eyes it was hard to let himself be upset for too long. Micah was his most balanced lover. He was so easy to be around. It’d always been that way. 

“How did Chicago go?” Harry asked. 

“Good, we managed to get four groups, and five independents. We had to slip in unnoticed by the Master of the City though, Jean-Claude warned us well ahead of time over him.” 

“Zane behave himself?” 

Micah chuckled. “For the most part, shockingly enough, Seth is a natural with his charisma.” 

“No surprise, he grew up with a nutty master who thought she was a Goddess. He’d know how to read situations to keep out of trouble.” 

“You know, Seth would be a good candidate,” Micah offered. “He’s devoted to you. You saved him. He’d never betray you and Edward would approve, same with Jean-Claude, and Marcus would likely agree with Edward. Hell, you’ve already given him enough attention that he swoons whenever you touch him.” 

Harry shook his head. “No. He’s Damian’s pomme now, and he chose that for himself. He won’t even let Nathaniel feed Damian anymore. Which I’m proud of, it means he’s come a long way.” Non master vampires weren’t necessarily afforded a pomme, but Harry thought it was good for Damian to have some stability, and Seth had been passed around so much from so many vampires that he too needed stability. Harry thought it was a good preternatural way of helping both of them. A pomme was a lot more than food, they were sacred and special, and this way both could get the benefits and things they needed from each other. When working with preternaturals you had to think outside the box, and things that would be bizarre to most humans were tradition and needs that had to be met. 

“What about Stephen?” 

“He’s seeing Viv.” 

“She wouldn’t mind.” 

“I would. Not everyone is polyamorous, Micah. A lot of mates would be so upset if I were to feed sexually from them. It’s the one very human thing I just can’t do to them. If they are happy together, Merlin, I don’t want to disrupt that.” 

“True, nor are they practical. How about Edward’s suggestion, Damian? After this, I don’t think Jean-Claude will mind too much. It’s to keep you safe after all.” 

“He’s seeing Meng-Die or trying to, and I don’t want to interfere with that.” It was an on and off again relationship. Harry didn’t think they were good for each other, but it was Damian’s first solid decision that he had made on his own, and he didn’t want to interfere with that. 

“He’s only seeing her because you won’t have him. He wants you to choose him.” 

“He only wants me to because I’m his master.”

“Now you’re not being practical, Baby.” 

“There is nothing practical about this, and we should go. How did you guys get here?” 

“Rafael dropped us, and there is an idea. You could have Rafael. Everyone would agree.” 

“ _ Nope _ . One and done.  _ Nope _ !” Harry was already moving out the door, and instead of taking the stairs he took the elevator, and Micah followed him in. “He’s a Rom. He should not be anyone’s Pomme.” 

“I get it now. You have way too much respect for Rafael don’t you?” asked Micah pulling Harry closer. 

“I respect everyone, but I guess Rafael is a bit special in that way.” 

“I’m almost jealous.” 

“Don’t be.” Harry stroked Micah’s cheek and kissed him. “I don’t want you as a big brother after all.” 

Micah laughed. “You are sweet, Harry. It’s no wonder you can get under even a contract killer’s skin. I don’t think Edward is going to be as surprised as you think.” He curled around Harry and nibbled at his neck. “Don’t worry Nimir-Ra, we’ll figure this all out together.” 

“I hope so. I feel miserable enough without letting this thing ruin my life.” 

“It’s not ruining anything, Baby. Jean-Claude warned us this would happen, and I trust you.” 

“If you say so.” 

The elevator reached the bottom floor without anyone else getting on. Harry, seeing Noah across the lobby, shrank behind Micah hoping to delay anyone else figuring out what happened. Micah tossed Noah Harry’s keys and gestured for him to leave the building first. With a wave to Mary, both men were out the door. Harry was tempted to wave his coat about his body in hopes of dispersing more of the smell of sex but ultimately decided that would tip off Noah more than anything else. 

Harry climbed into the back, sliding over as Micah climbed in behind him instead of walking around. Noah turned on the car and then paused. Harry could hear his drawn in breath and did his best to avoid looking forward as Noah pulled out of the parking lot.

“Nimir-Ra…”

“Leave it Noah.” Micah interrupted while placing a calming hand on Harry’s knee.

“But…Why does Nimir-Ra smell like...”

“Leave it.” Micah growled in warning as Harry tensed up. Harry really didn’t want to get into a discussion with Noah over the situation he found himself in. “Keep this to yourself. We will decide when to inform the others on what occurred.”

“Don’t you mean if?” Harry pleaded.

“No, Baby, when. They need to know but there’s no reason for the message to be scrambled on the way. Is there Noah?”

“No Nimir-Raj. There will be no word from me on this.” Noah focused on driving Harry to his raising for the rest of the ride. Harry felt bad about putting Noah in this position but there wasn’t anything he could do at this point. He just needed to finish off the night and get back home. Never before had Harry ever wanted to just restart the day, not since ending the war. He wanted to wake up again and catch Edward before he left with Peter to hunt. If only he had a quick romp with Death before they left.

Lindel Cemetery was one of those new modern cemeteries, and Harry had to admit that he hated it. There was nothing peaceful about it. Flowers weren’t allowed to be put on the graves of loved ones, and the headstones barely peaked up from the ground. It was nothing more than a granite plaque a few inches off the ground. There were no trees or anything to feed the environment. It was like a barren land with nothing to make it striking. 

“I really hope this doesn’t get nasty,” said Harry lifting his kit as both of them got out. 

“Do they tend to?” asked Noah stoically. 

“Sometimes, especially when lawyers and insurance companies are involved,” said Harry and nodded toward them to show one marked police car and one unmarked police car. “Someone isn’t going to be happy, and the dead don’t lie.” 

“You can’t force them?” 

“No. Nor would I if I could.” 

He started across the cold crisp dying grass. Micah and Noah following at a good pace behind him toward a fresh gravesite where he would be raising a man named Gordon Bennington thanks to the bastards at Fidelis Insurance Company claiming that his death was a suicide. It didn’t matter that the police and ME had ruled the death accidental, money grubbing bastards liked to try and hold tight on their purse strings, and there was multi-million dollars at stake. 

They opted to pay Harry’s substantial fee in hopes of saving millions. Harry was expensive, but not that expensive. For these men, he was a bargain, unless you know it had been accidental. 

Two of the groups were at least fifty feet apart because both Mrs. Bennington and Fidelis’ head lawyer, Arthur Conroy, had restraining orders against each other. The third group were the intermediaries and protection. 

Harry liked to think he brought his own, Micah and Noah walked in perfect step with each other. Micah had hid his eyes behind a pair of shades, and though it was the dead of night it didn’t hardly matter. 

Arthur Conroy came towards Harry, his hand outstretched. Noah made a move as if to block, but Micah shook his head once at the man. Conroy was on the tall end of short with thinning blond hair that had been combed over his bald spot. Silver framed glasses encircled his gray eyes reminding Harry of a time when he wore glasses. Had it really been only a few years since then? 

Conroy was accompanied by a near-solid wall of other dark suited men. This time Micah and Noah stepped up on each side stoically without fail. It probably didn’t help that both of them were six foot plus men, and if Harry wasn’t magical or strong in any way they could probably snap him in half. 

“Bodyguards too, hm?” 

Conroy’s eyes widened. “How did you know?” 

“I did say too, didn’t I?” He gestured behind him. It didn’t matter that Conroy’s was bigger than Harry’s, Harry would take his guards over Conroy’s any day. For one, despite their appearances, he highly doubted that they could bench press trucks or throw trucks across a road. Noah was big and muscular, but Micah came off as soft and delicate. Hah. 

Harry shook hands with the other two Fidelis people. He didn’t offer to shake hands with the guards. 

The dark haired bodyguard was looking at Harry and the two men over. “So you’re Harry Potter-Black?” he said in a deep voice. His shoulders were nearly as broad as Harry was tall. 

“And you are?” 

“Rex. Rex Canducci.” 

“Nice to meet you.” The second bodyguard was blond and silent. He watched Harry with pale eyes. 

“This is Balfour,” said Rex causing Harry to simply nod, not bothering to ask for a surname or if Rex was his real name. He’d heard even odder names. He really hoped these guys weren’t trying to silently bully him into trying to get the dead to lie. “Who are your men?” He eyed both of them, and didn’t seem too impressed with the quiet Micah behind his dark shades. 

“Here for me. Sometimes people can get a little annoyed by truths, and so I’ve brought them with me to keep the peace.” Rex didn’t seem pleased that Harry wouldn’t introduce them, and before he could prompt about it raised voices nearby drew their attention. 

It was Mrs. Bennington, and there was a nice plainclothes policeman talking to her. His voice was calm, but it carried in a low wordless rumble. He was trying to keep her fifty feet away from Conroy. Weeks ago, she’d slapped the lawyer, and he’d bitch-slapped her back. She’d then put a fist to his jaw and sat him on his arse. 

Harry wasn’t sure who he should root for in that whole debacle, and kept out of it. But that was about the time the court bailiffs had to step in and break things up. 

Harry had been present for all the festivities because he was part of the court settlement. Sort of. Tonight would decide the issue once and for all. If Gordon Bennington rose from the grave and said he’d died by accident, Fidelis had to pay. If he admitted suicide, then Mrs. Bennington got nothing. 

Mrs. Bennington was yelling at the officer who was barring her way. “Those bastards have hired him! And he will do what they say. He’ll make Gordon lie, I know it.” 

Harry had tried to explain to everyone that the dead don’t lie. Pretty much only the judge had believed him, and the cops. Fidelis thought their fee had insured their outcome, and Mrs. Bennington thought the same. 

She finally spotted Harry over the cop’s broad shoulders. In her high heels she was taller than the officer. Which meant she was already tall. 

She tried to push past him, yelling at him now. Micah and Noah quickly stepped forward as she tried to push past the police officer that blocked her way. 

“Out of my way!” She banged against the officer’s shoulder and frowned down at him. It stopped her yelling, for a second. 

“Mrs. Bennington,” his deep voice rumbled as Micah and Noah remained in their places. Balfour and Rex were watching them carefully having taken a step back. “Mr. Potter-Black is here by order of the court. You have to let him do his job.” He had short gray hair, a little longer on top.

She tried to push past him again, and this time she grabbed him as if she’d move him out of her way. He wasn’t tall, but he was broad, built like a square. She realized quickly that she couldn’t push him, so she moved to walk around him, still determined to give Harry a piece of her mind. 

Micah let out a low snarl that had Rex and Balfour flinching, and their eyes narrowing. Noah raised his energy in preparations to remove the obstacle should she get past the police officer barricading her. 

He grabbed her arm quickly to keep her away. She raised her hand to him, and his deep voice came clear in the cold night. “If you hit me, I will handcuff you and put you in the back of the squad car until we’re all finished here.” 

She hesitated, her hand raised, but there must have been something in his face, still turned away from Harry that said clearly that he meant every word. His tone of voice had been enough for anyone. He’d have done what he said. 

Finally she lowered her arm. “I’ll have your badge if you touch me.” 

Merlin, she sounded like Petunia. “Striking a police officer is considered a crime, Mrs. Bennington,” he said in that deep voice. 

Harry decided not to let her know that striking a Federal Marshall was also a crime. Brewster’s Law had gone through, and Harry had an official non-magical badge along with Edward and many other grandfathered in Bounty Hunters. 

Even by moonlight Harry could see the astonishment on her face. It was as if somehow she hadn’t quite realized any of the laws applied to her. It was this realization that took the wind out of her sails. She settled back, and let her cadre of dark-suited lawyers lead her a little away from the nice police officer. 

It was only then that he muttered close enough for only Harry, Noah, and Micah to hear. “If she’d been my wife, I’d have shot myself too.” 

Harry and Micah laughed, neither could help it and Noah smirked. He turned, eyes angry, defensive, but whatever he saw in their face had him smiling. “Sorry sir, count yourself lucky. I’ve seen Mrs. Bennington several times now.” Harry held out his hand. “Harry Potter-Black.” 

He shook it like he meant business. “Lieutenant Nicols, and my condolences on having to deal with…” he hesitated. 

“Crazy bitch?” Micah supplied. 

He smirked. “That is the phrase. I sympathize with a widow and three children getting the money that is due to them,” he said, “but she makes it awfully hard to sympathize with her personally.” 

“Yeah, and for the record, the dead can’t lie.” 

He laughed and reached into his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. “You mind?” 

“Nope.” 

Micah and Noah were a bit on the sensitive side to it, but after Bennington all of them decided he deserved one. “If Gordon Bennington rises from the grave and says he offed himself, she is going to go ballistic, Mr. Potter-Black. I’m not allowed to shoot her, but I’m not sure what else is going to be able to stop her.” 

“That’s why we’re here,” said Micah flatly. 

“Maybe her lawyers can sit on her. I think there’s enough of them to hold her down,” Harry offered. 

He put the cigarette between his lips, still talking. “They’ve been fucking useless, too afraid of losing their fee, and she’s got connections with the top brass because she’s got money and may end up with having a lot more after tonight. But she’s also been fucking unpleasant.” he seemed to relish saying the F-word as much as smoking the cigarette. 

“Sounds like bad politics.” 

“The papers plastered her decking Conroy all over the front page. The powers that be are worried that this is going to turn into a mess, and they don’t want the mess to land on them.” 

“So they’re distancing themselves in case she does something even more unfortunate?” 

He took a deep, deep pull off the cigarette, holding it like someone smoking a drug, and then let the smoke trickle out of his mouth and nose as he answered. “Distancing, that’s one word for it.” 

“Bailing, jumping ship, abandoning ship.” 

He was laughing now, and he hadn’t finished blowing out all the smoke causing him to choke a little. “I don’t know if you’re really this amusing or I just needed a laugh.” 

“He’s downright snarky,” Micah chimed. “Gets him in a lot of trouble.” 

“Is that why you’re here?” asked Lieutenant Nichols. 

“One of many reasons,” said Micah grinning wolfishly behind his shades. 

Harry elbowed him. “That’s enough. I’m not that funny. It’s just my slowly dying accent.” He’d been in America for a fair few years, and the thickness of his accent had faded around the edges. He still got thick when he was panicking or angry, but his voice was leveling out and changing just a touch. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Harry Potter-Black. You’ve made a pretty good name for yourself.” 

“I have? I really try not to.” 

“Zerbrowski speaks well of you.” 

“Ah, ol’ Zeze, how’s he doing?” 

“Busy,” said Nichols with a smirk. “Ever met his wife?” 

“Katie?” 

“Ever wonder how Zerbrowski managed to nab her?” 

“Every damn time I see her,” Harry cheered, and he chuckled. 

“I’ll call for another squad car, try for two uniforms. Let’s get this done, and get the hell away from these people.” 

“Yes, please.” 

He went to make the call, and Micah handed him his zombie-raising equipment. It was in a black nondescript bag that was bigger inside than it was outside. Not that he needed it these days. He didn’t even use his ointment anymore. But he kept it just in case. 

“You really think it’s going to get out of hand?” asked Noah. 

“Could, depends on what the dead say,” said Harry solemnly. 

It was as he said that the cool feeling of the earth began to roll through him, and though no one was rising yet, Harry could feel the dead below ground. The moonlight shined and danced in layers of silver and gray. Every so often he’d spot a wisp roving through the cemetery, but the poor things had nowhere to go or nowhere to land on. No trees, no stones, no weeping angels for them to cling to. 

Harry only needed three things to call the spirits forward, so he moved into position and conjured a stone table that had several people flinching or jumping in shock. He didn’t bother to turn around. Harry looked at Micah. “Better back up. I don’t want an accident.” He meant raising the entire graveyard. He could feel Micah’s energy and if it connected to Harry’s the whole cemetery was going to come to life. Micah grinned wolfishly, and nodded as he pulled Noah to step out of Harry’s sphere, but still within reach. 

No longer did Harry need chickens or goats or any of that to raise the dead. He was using his blood more and more, and he was just fine with that. Cuts could be cleaned and spelled back like it never happened, but chickens and goats sacrificed for no other reason than for greedy bastards or sometimes for entertainment. Harry was not an entertainer, and he never would be. 

Harry’s necromantic powers had grown substantially over the years. More so now than it ever before, but he still needed blood, still needed the steel, and sometimes the salt. 

By now, Lt. Nicols was joined by two new uniformed policemen in the middle of the two groups that surged forward just enough to hear what the zombie would say. It was closer than fifty feet, but both parties needed to hear Gordon Bennington or so the judge had ruled. The judge in question had actually joined them. Along with a court reporter and her little machine he’d also brought along two burly looking bailiffs, which made Harry think the judge was the smartest one of the bunch. 

Harry was ever so glad that Court TV hadn’t gotten wind of it. It was the weird rubbish that they liked to televise, and yes, Harry knew about Court TV, thank you so much Draco Malfoy. You annoying prat!

“Finally,” the judge said in a booming court voice that echoed strangely in the flat cemetery. “Go ahead, Mr. Potter-Black, we are all assembled.” 

Normally, Harry would have beheaded a chicken and used its body to help him sprinkle a blood circle that was a circle of power to contain the zombie once it was raised so it wouldn’t go wandering all over the place. The circle also helped focus power and raise energy. But Harry had no chickens, and so what did he do? 

He pulled the glittering jeweled athame from his hip that it had been stowed. It was a long and sharp blade that had everyone blinking, and he started at the tip of his middle finger, and pressed. It never hurt when he cut himself, and he slid the blade down causing the bubble of blood to spring to life. 

Harry then used the athame and his blood to walk a circle with the blade pointed downward, and the power began to bubble and pull around him as if he were carving the earth around him. Harry could feel and hear each drop that fell as the earth sucked in his magic. He had to really restrain himself from pulling everything. His magic was antsy, testy. Micah was so nearby, and even at a distance he could feel Micah’s energy trying to connect to his own, but his lovely Nimir-Raj seemed aware of it, and pulled back on his own energy. 

A spine-tingling rush flowed over him as he turned to face the headstone. “ _ Gordon Bennington, I command you from your grave _ .” And he touched the stone with his bloody hand. 

It was all he needed as his voice echoed beneath the soil, and the earth began to rumble, but only for Harry and maybe Micah who took in a sharp breath. The earth began to roll like heavy water making those around who had never seen a raising gasp. Sometimes, if a zombie had been stuck down there long enough or the magic had dried they’d rise in a predictable manner. But most of the time the earth would pull back like a flowing blanket, and the zombie would rise. 

One thing about Harry’s zombies that had always differed from others was how human they looked. Gordon Bennington came out of his grave looking as though he’d never died causing Mrs. Bennington to cry out and stumble forward. 

Even the lawyers were staring in awe at how lively he looked. The nice blue suit hid the chest wound that had killed him, and so you could not tell that he was dead right off the bat. His skin was pale, but that would change as Harry stepped forward, he knelt down to the man sitting against his own headstone, and held out his hand. “Drink, Gordon and speak to us.” 

His light colored eyes stared at him, a bit glassy, but very nearly human. His full mouth pressed to Harry’s palm, and he began to suck. His tongue whipped back and forth on the wound like something separate and alive in his mouth, feeding from Harry. 

“That’s enough,” Harry commanded seeing the flush pinkness spill across the man’s cheeks, and the power pulled him back. “Are you Gordon Bennington?” Harry asked for clarification. 

He nodded. 

The judge then said, “We need you to answer out loud, Mr. Bennington, for the record.” 

Bennington stared up at him, and Harry repeated what the judge had said, and Bennington spoke. “I am, was, Gordon Bennington.” Harry loved it when his zombies knew they were dead. It always made things easier. A few times rising they hadn’t known. He wondered if it was because he used his own blood now? 

“How did you die, Mr. Bennington?” Harry asked politely. 

He sighed, drawing in air, and he knew it was the fact that he was missing some of his chest. The suit hid it, but he’d seen the forensic photographs, and the mess a twelve-gauge shotgun made at close range was obvious. 

“I got shot.” 

There was tension behind Harry, and he could feel it buzz over the power circle. “How did you get shot?” he asked soothingly. 

“I shot myself going down the stairs to our basement.” 

There was a cry of triumph from one side of the crowd and an inarticulate scream from the other. “Did you shoot yourself on purpose?” 

“No, of course not. I tripped, gun went off, so stupid, really. So stupid.” 

That had been Harry’s guess, and when he had shown the photographs to Edward, the man had told him it had been a stupid mistake. He’d seen it a lot in the past. 

There was a lot of screaming behind Harry, mostly Mrs. Bennington yelling. “I told you so, little bastard!” 

Harry scowled, and turned to the judge. “Judge Rupert, did you hear all that?” 

“Most of it,” he said tightly glaring over at Mrs. Bennington, and then spoke in a booming voice that override the woman. “Mrs. Bennington, if you will be quiet long enough to listen, your husband has just said he died by accident.” 

“Gail!” Gordon Bennington’s voice was tentative, and he staggered to his feet almost like a human. “Gail are you there?” 

“Sir, can I put him back?” Harry asked the Judge. 

“No,” this came from Arthur Conroy who stepped closer. “We have some questions for Mr. Bennington.” 

Harry sighed, and crossed his arms as they started asking their questions. Mrs. Bennington had gone quiet and was staring at her husband, in disbelief at how human he looked. He noticed the bodyguards all staring at him too. It was like they’d never seen a raising before, but then again most hadn’t except for inheritance lawyers and the occasional judge. Harry’s career was quite mysterious to the lot of them. 

Mr. Bennington was completely cognizant, and managed to answer them, and the more he stayed above ground the more Harry’s blood enhanced his features. His lips became fuller, his eyes began to shine with a life-like quality as though he had a soul. But, Harry knew his soul was at rest. It was just Harry’s magic and blood linking them together. 

He spotted his wife in the crowd. “Gail, I am so sorry. You were right about the guns. I wasn’t careful enough. I’m so sorry for leaving you and the kids.” 

Mrs. Bennington came towards them with her lawyers in tow. Harry thought he’d have to ask them to keep her off the grave, but she stopped outside the circle as if she could feel it. 

“How are you dead when you look so alive?” she breathed. Her own face had gone ash white. She wanted to reach out, but she restrained herself. “M-maybe you can come back?” 

“Ma’am, he cannot. He does not belong here,” said Harry quietly and surprisingly the woman drew herself up as she gave a weak nod. 

Conroy and the lawyers tried to keep asking questions, and trap him in something so they could get out of the payment, but the judge finally put his foot down. “Gordon Bennington has answered all your questions in detail. It’s time to let him get back to rest.” 

Harry agreed, and Mrs. Bennington was in tears when Gordon bravely reached out and touched her shoulder. Harry had allowed it. She went up into tears. “Sorry.” He turned to Harry right then. “Will Gail and the children get the insurance now?” 

Harry glanced at the judge who nodded. “Yes, Mr. Bennington, they will.” 

He smiled, and Mrs. Bennington cried out seeing how young it made him look. “Thank you, then, I am ready.” He gazed back at his wife, who had kneeled on the grass by his grave. “I’m glad I got to say good-bye.” 

She shook her head. “Me, too, Gordie, me too. I miss you.” 

“I miss you too, my little hellcat.” 

Yep. He knew his wife quite well, Harry thought as she burst into sobs and hid her face in her hands. One of her lawyers helped her off the ground. 

Harry turned, and used what blood he had left on the athame to wipe it across Bennington's lips as he summoned the salt. “With blood I bind you to your grave, Gordon Bennington, and with steel I bind you to your grave, and with salt I bind you permanently back to your grave. Go home,” he ordered, and as the touch of the salt splashed across Bennington’s chest his eyes lost their alertness and he began to empty. Harry could feel the energy leaving and he softly laid back on the earth as if something had called him, and the ground began to swallow him like quick sand until everything went back to normal. 

Harry still had to walk the circle backwards to end the circle, and normally he didn’t have an audience for that part. The zombie goes back in the grave, and everyone leaves. But Conroy of Fidelis Insurance was arguing with the judge, who was threatening to cite him for contempt, and Mrs. Bennington was not in a condition to walk yet. 

As Harry cleared the circle, he let the cut on his finger and hand heal as he began to pack things away. The police were standing around and watching the show. Lieutenant Nicols looked at him and shook his head with a smile. He then walked over. He lowered his voice so the truly grieving widow wouldn’t hear him. “You could not pay me enough to let that thing suck my blood.” 

Harry tried not to bristle or get annoyed by the police officer calling the dead a thing. He wanted to keep in good, and so he reigned in the urge to call him out. “You’d be surprised what people pay for this kind of work.” He opened his hand to see the wound was now gone. 

“It ain’t enough.” He said, an unlit cigarette already in his hand. 

Geez. 

It was then that a soft rippling power of familiarity began to cross over his skin, and Micah stepped up. “Harry.” 

“I feel it,” said Harry not looking at his Nimir-Raj, and he raised his eyes to the sky as a gust of wind wooshed over them where there had been no wind that night. 

“Do not shoot. He’s my friend,” said Harry before Asher appeared in their midst, very close to him. His long hair streaming behind him, his booted feet touching down. He was forced to make a half running step to catch the momentum of his flight, which brought him to Harry’s side. 

Harry turned and put himself in front of the vampire’s body as every policeman, every bodyguard had drawn a gun, and every barrel was pointed at Asher, and at him. 

Micah and Noah were already covering Harry who covered Asher. Harry frowned at the half circle of guns, trying to keep an eye on everyone at once and failing, and so he trusted Micah and Noah as his wand slid down into his hand. 

“He’s a friend,” Harry repeated. 

“Whose friend?” 

“Mine.” 

“Well, he ain’t my friend,” said one of the uniforms.

“He’s not a threat to you unless you intend to hurt me.” 

Asher said something in French, everyone gripped their guns a little tighter. Harry resisted the urge to do a mass summoning. “English, please Asher.” 

He took a deep shuddering breath. “It was not my intent to frighten anyone.” His voice was thick and soft, but it commanded attention. 

Not too long ago the police were allowed to shoot a vampire on sight just for being a vampire. It made Harry’s hackles rise at the very idea of it. It’d only been a few years since Addison V. Clark had made vampires legal and alive. 

“If you shoot me, I will not be responsible for what happens next,” said Harry harshly. Micah and Noah seemed to gain size with their flowing energy causing a ripple that had the officer’s taking a step back. 

“I don’t have a badge to lose,” It was Balfour, of course being tough. 

“I don’t care whether you have a badge or not. You better be faster than my men and then be faster than me because you won’t get a second chance,” said Harry icily. 

“They don’t even have guns.” 

Micah smirked and dragged his shades down to show his chartreuse eyes making everyone take a step back. “Do I really need them?” he purred sultrily. 

Nicols had the good sense to draw back. “Nobody is shooting anyone!” he said roughly. “Dammit.” Every point the man had gained was now lost, but he did point his gun toward Balfour and Rex. “Put the guns down now.” the other policemen followed his lead, and suddenly the circle of guns were pointed away from Harry and at Balfour and Rex. 

“You employ vampires and beasts as guards?” sneered Balfour. 

“I employ friends,” said Harry boldly. “Doesn’t matter the flavor, friends are friends. What has you so late and frantic, Asher?” He asked, turning to look at the man staring down at him. One side of his face was covered, leaving the beautiful unmarred clear for all to see. His blue eye danced over Harry, and his waves of golden hair barely moved in the stillness. It was then that he put his hands on Harry’s petite shoulders, and he could feel the tension, they were almost shaken. “Asher? Please talk to me.” 

The police had convinced the bodyguards to put their guns away. The uniforms divided up and walked the two interested parties back to their respective cars. It left Nicols, the judge, and the court reporter standing near them. At least the reporter had stopped typing. 

Nicols turned to Harry and his men, his gun pointed downward. Noah had taken to stepping in front of Micah so they all looked like one odd train, and Harry was hard to see unless the man swooped around to look at them. 

Nicols frowned, eyes flickering to Asher, then to Harry. He knew enough not to risk staring the vampire in the eyes. They could bespell anyone with their eyes if they wanted to. Harry was pretty damn immune, and always had been. “Okay, what was so damned urgent that he had to fly in here like that?” 

“Well for one he was late for guard duty,” said Harry for Asher. He reached up and touched the man’s hand. “Why were you late?” 

Asher looked down at Harry. “Musette has been gravely injured. I came to take mon cherie to her side.” 

Micah’s eyes widened as he whipped around to look at Asher. “You’re serious?” 

All the color in Harry’s face had drained away, and his breath caught in his throat. What the fuck? Musette was one of Belle Morte’s lieutenants. Belle Morte was the fountainhead, ie sourdre de sang of Jean-Claude and Asher’s bloodline. She was also a member of the council of vampires that had a home base somewhere in Europe. Every time council members had visited a location, people wound up dead. Luckily, Harry and his men had beat them back. 

There had been some careful negotiations about Musette coming over for a visit. She was due in February, not Christmas. So what the hell was she doing in town so fucking early? 

Harry didn’t believe for a minute that Musette was hurt nor would he care if she were. He knew what Asher was telling him in code. It was to tell him how bad things were in front of witnesses. 

Apparently, Harry’s face was more than enough for Nicols that it satisfied him. “You close to this Musette?” 

“Lieutenant, can we please go? I want to get there as soon as possible.” 

Nicols nodded again, putting up his gun. “Yeah, go on. I hope… your friend is okay.” 

Harry resisted snorting as he summoned everything into his pack, and Noah took it for him. Asher was still clutching him as if using him as a way to stabilize his emotions. The judge murmured his thanks, and hoped for a speedy recovery. The court reporter on the other hand hadn’t said anything. She was gazing at Asher as if mesmerized. No surprise. He was enchanting to look at after all. Scars and all. 

As they started across the lawn, Micah moved more in step with Asher. “Was anyone called?” 

“No time,” said Asher somberly. “She arrived an hour ago.” 

Normally, Asher walked as though he were gliding on air, but tonight he moved as heavy as a human. Micah had his cell phone out, and was sending a message. Likely to Marcus and maybe even Edward. 

Harry wordlessly took the keys from Noah, and took over driving this time. Micah slipped into the back with Asher taking the front-seat. “I don’t understand, the negotiations aren’t even finished.” 

“We hadn’t,” his voice held sorrow so thick Harry could have squeezed it out. Asher was a tragic man with a tragic past that haunted and followed him around like a puppy at his heels. 

Jean-Claude had once been in a threesome with him and Asher’s human servant, Julianna, but that ended in Asher being scarred by holy water, and Julianna burning at the stake for being a witch. It’d been a cruel fate for them all, and everyone had suffered. For centuries Asher vowed revenge and spat venomous hatred at Jean-Claude. He had sought to try and destroy him as he claimed Jean-Claude had destroyed him, but something had stopped him. 

His love of Jean-Claude. He was now Jean-Claude’s first Lieutenant in his Kiss having been freed of Belle Morte and her less than tender care. They were trying to repair some of the damage done to him, but it was slow going. He still held a brightly lit torch, and had wanted to form a new threesome, but Harry had refused to be apart of it. 

If Jean-Claude wanted Asher then he could have him. Harry wouldn’t stand in his way, and he’d be a hypocrite to do so. But Harry wanted nothing to do with being a replacement. He did not want to be in between them and had made that loud and clear. 

Asher had improved, but he was still tragic even with the fixing of the scars below his belt. He still saw himself as a monster. Harry thought he was beautiful, but aside from the stranger and accident tonight, he was not the type to jump the bones of every good looking person. Merlin, he was still ashamed of himself for what he’d done. 

“That means she broke the treaty and law by invading our territory,” said Micah leaning up on the seat to look at Asher. “I’ve sent messages to Marcus and Edward.”

“If Musette broke the law, can’t we punish her? Or kick her out of our territory?” Harry asked, turning out of the cemetery. 

“If she were any other master vampire then we would be within our rights to slay her, but it is Musette. Musette is Belle’s…” he seemed to be searching for a word. “I do not know the word in English. But in French it’s  _ Bete Noire _ .” 

“Nightmare?” Something like that. 

He nodded slowly. “Oui. Nightmare. I like that. She is the black beast. She has been for over six hundred years.” 

Micah rolled his eyes. “Many things are old, but that doesn’t mean they’re not edible.” 

Asher looked back at him, horror and fear striking his face. His curtain of hair moved to show the scars that scars that trailed down his cheek. “It would be a tragic mistake. She is terrifying. You must know this.” 

Harry had seen a lot of terrifying things, but he had yet to really be scared. “No matter how terrifying she is, doesn’t escape the fact that she invaded our lands. She is technically a rogue vampire, and anyone’s meat because of this. She has no protection.” 

Asher made a sound that was like a wounded animal. Pitiful. Edward would be sneering about now, and readying his gun. He looked back at Micah, trusting his car to get him where he wanted to go without having to look. Noah’s left eye was twitching as he noticed Harry hardly paying attention, and yet the car was doing it’s well charmed job. 

“It is not that simple.” 

“Nothing ever is with the council and their lackeys,” said Harry taking a good turn. 

“Harry… mon cherie.. Please, I know you have a lack of fear, but you must understand. She is…” 

“A nightmare. I get it, Asher. It’s okay.” He reached and stroked Asher’s hand causing the man to flinch. He reached up and gripped Harry’s hand. “You’re not alone. I won’t let her touch you.” 

“You won’t have a choice. Do not make such a promise.” 

“You’re upset. You need to calm down and trust us, Asher,” said Micah stroking the man’s golden hair. He pushed it back to see his face more clearly. He was always stunned when they looked at him like he was a person, and not like a monster. Micah made a point, looking directly at him. Harry kept his grip with Asher. 

Asher turned to look at both of them as confusion and fear swirled around him. “She is the vessel to Belle. To harm Musette is to harm Belle.” 

“Literally?” Harry wondered. 

“Non, it is more like courtesy than magic. She has given Musette her seal, her ring of office, which means Musette in effect speaks for Belle, we are forced to treat her as we would treat Belle Morte herself. That was most unexpected.” 

_ Fat chance of that happening _ , Harry thought as Micah continued to stroke Asher, and helping him to calm down. 

It wasn’t that Micah was particularly fond of the man. No one really was with how dreary he could be, but Jean-Claude cared for him, and that meant something to everyone. Even Edward wouldn’t shoot him, claiming him too pathetic. Even though Asher was a strong vampire. He was a master himself, but he was a broken master. Harry thought he needed to find someone for his own. Someone who would love him for all the sides inside of him. He wanted Jean-Claude, and in a way he wanted Harry. 

But Harry could not reciprocate. He would not go down the road of replacement. He would not be Julianna, and he never would. Jean-Claude saw him as a lover who had died. He was fond and he loved Asher, and would forever, but he was not in love with Asher. Harry wasn’t quite sure if he fully believed that or not, but he had told Jean-Claude time and time again that if he wanted to go down that road, he was more than willing to share him. 

“What difference does this make?” Micah asked. “If she’s not being possessed by Belle Morte, then she is not Belle Morte. I don’t care what fancy ring she has.” 

“If Musette were not Belle’s vessel, then we could punish her for coming early and breaking off negotiations. But if we punish her now, then it would mean that we would do the same to Belle if she came here.” 

“So?”

_ It was such an Edward way of questioning _ , Harry thought fondly at Micah. “Why wouldn’t we punish Belle for entering our territory so rudely as you put it?” 

Asher looked as though he were about to cry. “You don’t understand what you are saying, mon cherie.” 

“Explain it to us then,” said Noah impatiently. He’d been quiet and listening this whole time, but Asher’s melancholy could easily get to anyone. “What are we walking into?” 

“Belle is our sourdre de sang, our fountainhead. She is our bloodline. We cannot harm her,” said Asher. 

And Harry, in a way, understood the whole bloodline and lineage thing, but that did not mean he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t punish someone for doing wrong. It did not matter what relation they were if they took advantage of their position. “You’re saying that she’s pretty much the Queen of all. She is your mother. You owe her penance for the rest of your life, hm?” 

“Oui.” 

“Queens and Kings still get punished if they go too far,” said Harry flatly. 

“It is just not done. We owe our allegiance to her. If we raise a hand it would be seen as treason.” 

“I don’t, Micah doesn’t, Noah doesn’t, and Edward surely doesn’t. What you can’t do we can do.” 

Micah smirked. “He’s kind of right.” 

Asher’s breathing had gone a little higher. His fear was rolling through the car as Harry turned onto the main drag. “You don’t understand we are little fish compared to Belle Morte. A very little fish.” 

“I’m not that little,” Harry huffed, causing Micah to chuckle and lean over to press a kiss to his cheek. “If they want to play games let her, but once Edward comes and steps through that door the games might end very abruptly. She might die. She might not. It all depends on his mood.” 

Asher bowed his head. “He would bring war.” 

Harry giggled. He was unable to help it. Even Micah was snickering. “He’d bring Death, Asher. I’m the one who brings war so that Death can have his wicked way. He brings Death, and Jean-Claude and the rest will seal it with a good night kiss.” 

“Very poetic, Baby.” Micah ran his fingers through Harry’s wild hair. 

“I guess I’m dressed up enough for this event,” said Harry shrugging. “Do I smell too much like a corpse?” 

Micah pushed his nose into Harry’s ear and ran it down. “You still smell like sex.” 

Harry whined at this, and Micah chuckled some more. “That was an accident…” he whined. “I never meant for that to happen.” 

“I know, Baby. But it doesn’t change how you smell. You smell lovely. A tinge of blood, but nothing that would alert anyone.” 

Asher was still despairing, and nothing anyone could say would change it. He didn’t like how flippant Harry was, and how he was naively walking himself into a storm. But Harry had learned how to play politics. If you walked in like you were anyone’s meat they would seize it. If you walked in with your head held high, and ready to fight back there was a good chance that the coward in the other party would come out. The Master of Beasts had been the perfect example of that. 

Harry had learned from Jean-Claude, and even Draco to a certain extent, that playing games was all about keeping your hand and readying those trump cards. He knew that Belle was sort of aware of the magical world. She had known Merlin from what he’d been told, but she had never been able to charm them no matter what she said. She’d never been able to get one beneath her clutches. In fact, Harry had sent a couple letters to Sanguini to ask about the magical and the preternatural world’s relationship. Not often do they cross over. In fact, they didn’t have a relationship at all unless they had real magical blood. Sanguini had been a rarity. He had been magical in life, and then he was turned on his seventeenth birthday. He had one year of Hogwarts left, and somehow he had made it work. He had managed to hide within the shadows during the day, and fool everyone into believing he was the same kid that went in. 

Harry had gained quite a correspondence with Sanguini, and he had expressed interest in meeting Harry’s vampire sweetie in the future. Everyone in the vampire community knew the name Jean-Claude, and Harry was now wondering if this was Belle Morte’s way of trying to reign in control. One of her children was getting too smart for his trousers, maybe she didn’t want him getting stronger and growing further?

Well, hah. Too bad. Every child grows. Just because Harry wished Teddy was still a baby boy didn’t mean he would stop the child from growing. It was natural after all. 

The Circus of the Damned was a combination of live action drama with nightmarish themes. A bit of traditional and macabre mixed with a circus performance. It was a carnival complete with rides, games, corn dogs, funnel cakes, and a side show that often resulted in nightmares for some. Harry had helped them out with some effects to make it more magical. He’d even introduced a few products from the magical world for Jean-Claude who now had a contract with George Weasley for his fireworks and other magical toys that would see Jean-Claude’s circus rising above any others in America. 

Least to say it was quite a show. Jean-Claude had expressed interest in future expansions, and Harry reminded him that they could expand the inside while keeping the shape of the outside. That got the master vampire on a tangent of excitement. The possibilities were endless to make his Circus the best in the world. Draco and Hermione would have to do that kind of work because Harry was complete pants at expansion charms that extended beyond beds and the like. 

It was the smell of corndogs and funnel cakes that reminded Harry that he was very hungry, and only realized that he hadn’t eaten at all that day. It was hard to keep up with feeding his ardeur and feeding his physical hunger. It was especially hard if he was alone in the house, where he would be doing something else and forget about his basic needs.

Harry parked in his designated spot. Noah and Micah were already getting out. Asher hadn’t moved. “Asher?” Asher was as still as any vampire could get. He stared back at Harry. He wasn’t even breathing. Micah opened the door for Harry. “Come on, Asher, don’t fall apart on me, yet.” 

He shook his head. “You must know, mon cherie, Jean-Claude didn’t send me to you because I travel faster than anyone else. He sent me to get away from her.” 

“Well then go to my house, and rest.” 

He shook his head again, all the golden waves swimming around his face. His eyes were their normal ice blue in the dome light. “I am his temoin, his second. I must go back inside.” 

“Then you’re going to have to get out of the car, sweetheart,” said Harry as though he were talking to Teddy. 

He looked down at his hands, limp in his lap. “I know.” But he still didn’t move. “I can’t leave you alone. It would hurt me should something happen to you.” 

Did he not see Micah and Noah? “But, I’m not alone and neither is Jean-Claude.” Micah had moved around to Asher’s side and opened the door for him and leaned down slightly. 

“Come on big guy.” Shockingly, Asher allowed Micah to help him out of the car. Harry took Noah’s extended hand, not that he had to. But because the enforcer was offering, and it would be rude not to accept. He hopped out, and Noah looked him over. 

“You don’t have to look at me like that, Noah.” 

“Like what?” asked Noah. 

“Shame. I feel it more than enough for us all,” he grumbled, and before Noah could say anything there was a flutter in the air, and that cool wind lanced down around them much like Asher had in the cemetery. 

Harry didn’t flinch as he felt the connection, and Damian touched down beside Harry and Noah. He turned immediately to Damian. “Are you okay?” If she touched Damian, all bets were going to be off. Damian was his to protect. His to care for, and he would have no one getting their grubby hands on him. Harry ran his hand along Damian’s cool pale cheek, and through his scarlet hair. His eyes flickered in acknowledgement. 

Damian observed Harry. “I am fine. I only arrived. I have yet to see her.” 

Harry nodded. “Good. Have you fed tonight?” He would need his boys at their best. He was looking a little more pale than Harry appreciated. By now, he should be full and flush in the cheeks. 

“I made sure to return Seth,” said Micah. 

“I felt the call, and so I awoke and rushed out,” he said solemnly. “I needed to be at your side.” 

“Now we can’t have that,” said Harry with a tut in his tone. 

“You think it’s wise to feed him now?” asked Asher. “You need your strength and energy, mon cherie.” 

“I have plenty of that, and Damian needs it too. He’s mine, and I won’t have him going without.” 

Damian wordlessly swooped around him, arms locking, and he brushed against Harry’s tilted neck. He bit down, and Harry twitched as he clutched the vampire who drank from him. All he could see was the folds of scarlet hair flickering around him. It wasn’t nearly as pleasant as Jean-Claude’s bite, but he was more than used to it. 

There was always a strange erotic component to a vampire taking blood. It filled them, and caused all of them to become alive. He ended up pressed against Micah’s chest as Damian pushed into him. 

What Harry didn’t take into account was the fact that he hadn’t had food, and so the drain made him feel unusually woozy. But, he didn’t stop Damian as he stroked his hair. The vampire shivered into the touch, and held him that much tighter. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” said Micah. “He needs the rest.” 

Damian didn’t hesitate, and slowly pulled back. A hand going to his lips. His eyes dazzled and sparked, his pale face became flush and rosy. He was nearly floating. “Thank you.” He kissed Harry’s chin and pulled away. 

“You’re making me jealous,” said a voice coming toward them, and Harry couldn’t help but turn with a smile when he saw Jason coming towards them over the pavement. 

“Jason!” 

“Lupa.” Jason was wearing jeans, jogging shoes, and a short leather jacket. His blond hair was cut short like a young executive. It made him look older and more grownup. His eyes were like a spring sky as blue as they were, but the twinkle? It wasn’t a Dumbledore twinkle. It was a flirtatious twinkle as Jason looped around Harry, and twirled him. “Anything left for me to lick?” He snuggled beneath Harry’s ear. It was a custom, and also simply pure Jason to push as much as he could. 

“I need what’s left, Jason,” Harry said with a gentle smile as he lightly swept a hand down the man’s cheek to his neck. “Are you wearing anything beneath that jacket?” He couldn’t help but notice. 

Jason snickered and backed up. His eyes shining even more in the bright lights as he unzipped it in one smooth motion, and flashed his bare chest and stomach. He had a lovely set of abs, and was one of the most popular at Guilty Pleasures. Him, Nathaniel, Seth, and the twins had fan followings from what he’d heard. “I didn’t have time to dress when Jean-Claude sent me out.” 

“Why the hurry?” Harry asked. 

Jason lost the snicker. “Musette has offered to share her pomme de sang with Jean-Claude, if he’ll share me with her.” 

Harry didn’t like that. Pomme de sang meant apple of blood in the literal sense. “I thought it was a faux pas to ask to feed on someone else’s pomme de sang.” 

“It can also be a great courtesy and honor,” said Asher. “You may trust Musette to turn custom into torment if she is able.” 

“So she’s not offering up her own pomme to honor Jean-Claude. She’s doing it because she knows he won’t share Jason?” 

“Oui.” 

“He’s my wolf too, and that’s _ two _ who won’t share him,” said Harry icily, and for that Jason snuggled up against him. “She has no say when it comes to a lukoi’s claim, now that I know.” His tone made Asher nervous. 

Micah cocked his head, having not said anything. His eyes flickered as if he trekked across something. “Hm. We could work this. A lot of birds we could hit.” 

“Huh?” 

“Nothing. Just thinking,” said Micah smiling. 

Jason looked at Micah suspiciously. “You usually like to smack me when I get this close. What gives?” Ever since Harry had met Jason, the young wolf had always had a thing for him. He didn’t quite know why either. He was bisexual, but mostly preferred women, but it was like Harry was his exception. Harry was the one male that he liked putting his hands on. 

“I’m feeling good tonight,” Micah grinned, showing most of his teeth. 

“You cannot field all our customs. You cannot protect all of them,” said Asher. “It would be suicide to even try.” 

Harry smirked. “Asher, Asher, Asher. You have not spent long enough in my company to know me very well. I can be a very selfish person when I have the mind to. Jean knows, he brought Jason out here for that very reason.” 

“Yup,” said Jason nodding. “Her pomme de sang is illegal in this country, so Jean-Claude hastily declined.” 

Harry frowned. “Illegal? In what way?” 

“The girl can’t be more than fifteen.” 

Ulgh. It was just like them to take one big faux pas and shove it in everyone’s face. “It’s against the law to take blood from a minor.” 

“Jean-Claude informed her of this, and then sent me out to wait for my Lupa.” 

“So, in effect she would get all the honor, and he would get nothing, which would be seen as an insult and weakness if he accepted. But to say no is to say no to Belle.” He needs Harry to say no. 

“Yup. He doesn’t want to give you any surprises. The two vamps with her are children.” 

Nikolaos instantly popped up into his mind, and he let out a sigh. “Great, those twisted little things are always so much fun,” he drawled. “Hah, if she moves in the wrong direction, and certain people got wind of what she brought, they’d slaughter her, and we could do nothing about it. You do know that’s an instant execution?” 

“You can’t!” Asher shuddered. 

“I didn’t say I would, Asher,” said Harry cocking his head. “But, Brewster’s law has passed, and some Bounty Hunters have a penchant for reading between lines and all the fine print. A vampire under the age of sixteen mentally and physically is grounds for instant execution. No grandfathering at all for them. They don’t need a warrant. So, if she’s out and flaunts them to the wrong person. We can’t protect her.” 

“Nor would we,” said Micah coldly. 

“Why would it be instant execution?” asked Damian curiously. 

“No matter how many hundreds of years they are, they are still under developed, and cannot think like an adult. They never will. Most of them turn their budding or no hormones into a twisted set of games that sees more harm for the vampire community than good. They are still considered legally dead.”

“Musette likes the young,” said Asher. His voice having gone quiet. 

“So, she’s a pedophile?” 

He shook his head. “No, not for sex, mon cherie, but blood, yes. She likes them young.” 

It wasn’t up to Harry to push the envelope, they had enough to deal with. “She’s brought in to test us?” 

“Exactly. She was chosen by Belle. She has other lieutenants that have less objectionable habits. She’s been brought in to test.” 

“Why?” 

“Because Belle does not know you. She likes to test her blades before bleeding them, Harry.” 

Harry turned at this, a great roar of anger shooting through him. “If she truly thinks I’m her weapon, she is completely mistaken. I will be no one's weapon, and I will burn an entire city to the ground to make my point,” he spat. His eyes flashed for a brief second a brilliant blazing red that had Asher taking a step back. “No one uses me as a weapon. I will not have it.” 

“You won’t have a choice…” Asher bowed his head. 

“No. It’s her who won’t have a choice. If she pushes me, you’ll likely meet the devil that hangs over my shoulder.” 

“It doesn’t matter whether you agree or not Harry. It’s what she believes. She is the empress. She is the fountainhead. She will see nothing more.” 

“You really really don’t know me, Asher,” said Harry, and instead of the fury that he felt through his body. He emptied. Everything on his face emptied. He stepped up into Asher’s personal space. “I’m not a human. I’m not a non magical human. I am a wizard. I’m a full blooded wizard, Asher, with enough power to level a city with a snap of my fingers. Do you truly think someone with a pretty face and a pretty little title is really going to be able to wield something like me?” He asked, baring his white teeth to the streetlights. 

“I don’t know how… you can win,” Asher choked sadly. 

“I’m not some precious toy that can be screwed just because I have the ardeur. I am not brainwashed into thinking there is no hope. I have not been taught to follow the order or authority. In fact, it was something of a contention when I was in school. I never did listen to rules or authority. Do you truly think Edward would give me the time of day if I couldn’t hold my own? If I couldn’t take care of myself?” He turned right then. “Shall we go see what awaits us?” 

Jason took a deep breath. “So glad you’re my Lupa, Harry. Musette hasn’t hurt anyone yet. She hasn’t raised a finger, but everyone is terrified. I’m fucking terrified, and I can’t figure out why. She’s this cute little blond thing, and she’s gorgeous like a life size Barbie doll with smaller breasts.” Harry arched a brow, and Jason grinned sheepishly. “Normally, I wouldn’t mind a gorgeous vampire sinking fang into me, but Lupa, I don’t want this chick to touch me.” He looked scared all of a sudden, scared and younger even than his twenty-two years. “I do not want her to touch me. Jean-Claude’s promised me that Musette isn’t one of those vampires that rots. But, I don’t know…” 

“You have good instincts,” said Asher solemnly. 

Harry wrapped his arms around Jason who clung to him. “It’s not going to happen. You’re my wolf, do you understand.” He pulled back and leveled Jason’s face. 

“Yes.” He met Harry’s eyes. “You’re the only one I believe. I don’t even believe Jean-Claude can keep me safe. But you…” Jason pulled him closer, and he let him. 

“You should not offer empty promises,” Asher hissed again. “I know you’re good, mon cherie, but this is unlike anything you’ve ever met.” 

Harry just stared at Asher. He was done with the vampire, honestly. “It’s a pity that you’re so blinded Asher that you can’t see the reality. But, that’s okay. I can show it to you. Once and for all. Did Jean-Claude give you any orders to control me and my temper?” he challenged. 

Asher made a noise, and Damian shook his head. “No. He never does.” 

“Exactly because even if I don’t understand something, I know how to work a room. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. Jason is mine. He might be Jean-Claude’s pomme, but he is  _ my _ wolf. I am Lupa, and while my Ulfric is out, you have nothing to do with him. None of you do. He’s mine.” 

“But, I - I belong to no one, Harry. That is what I’m trying to tell you. You cannot protect us all.” 

For one sad moment, Harry thought about just giving Asher to this woman. Just so he could be right, but that wouldn’t be Harry’s nature in the end. It would be more akin to Micah or Edward. He could see Micah’s face, it was shadowed carefully, but he knew the man was thinking it. It would be practical. Cut a lot of red-tape to just hand over Asher and be done with it. 

But, Harry was never one for taking the easy path. 

“Let’s go. We’re wasting time.” He zipped Jason’s jacket, and kissed him on the chin, and didn’t mind that when he turned Jason curled into his back, and with all his men flanking him they headed for the Circus to meet this so-called Barbie doll. 


	4. Chapter Four

#  Chapter Four

The Circus of the Damned went for miles underground, sloping spiral stone steps hugging the walls. Jason was hugging Harry, Noah was in the very back with Asher and Micah was behind Jason, in the middle. Harry lead the way because why wouldn’t he? He was Lupa, he was Nimir-Ra, and he was Jean-Claude’s human servant. 

At one time, Harry hated the idea of being special. He hated things being set aside for him. He hated all that special treatment, but tonight? Tonight he would use it. He would pull out all his bravado, and he would own what he was because that is what would get them through this with as minimal blood shed as possible. 

He had so much to protect that accepting what he was became easier to slip into. He was slowly accepting that he was too special to be left alone, that guards and those who cared for him had to surround him at all times. 

Tonight had been a perfect example. He’d laid out a client on his desk, and had paid the price of shame for not accepting his roles and what he couldn’t change. If only Shang-Da had been with him, even his favorite uncle. It would have been a better alternative to a stranger. 

Jean-Claude met them just inside the gold and silver gauzy drapes. He looked absolutely delectable, as he always did. He was wearing skin-tight leather trousers tucked into thigh-high boots that matched. The shirt was one of his typical shirts, something sort of 1700s with mounds of ruffles at the sleeves and neck. Only he could make it masculine. Micah had tried one of his shirts on a dare from Harry, and even Edward had laughed at him at how feminine he looked. Micah had pouted for a good three hours after that. Jean-Claude’s shirt wasn’t white this time, but a silk navy blue that made his midnight eyes look more blue. His face was as always flawless, and breathtaking.

“Jean-Claude,” Harry stepped forward, and Jean-Claude wrapped himself around him. He made sure to use Jean-Claude’s full title. He did not want Musette to have any indications that Harry disrespected his sweetie.

“Mon Amour, you are a lovely face to see,” Jean-Claude purred and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, and finally their lips joined. His long perfect piano fingers caressed the fur-lined torc around his throat. “Ah, you have fed tonight.” 

Harry’s eyes shined, and he looked back at Micah. “Something like that.” 

Jean-Claude hummed. “What? It is a good thing… or is it not?” He looked at Micah who slipped around Jason, and greeted him with a kiss. He stroked Micah’s cheek, and nipped at the edge of his lips. 

“We’ll talk about that later,” said Micah. “It is not as important as our guest of honor, hm?” 

“Oui.” His face transformed into cold stone. Still beautiful, but marble. 

Harry smirked and leaned up to kiss Jean-Claude’s chin. “Escort me?” 

“Oui.” 

Jason stepped back so that Micah could get on his other side, and Damian settled beside Jason. All of them were his. It was a clear indication, and then Harry thought about it at the last minute. 

“Noah. You should stand outside and guard,” he told the man. 

“Wha-?” 

Micah nodded. “Yes, yes I think that’s a good idea.” 

“But, Nimir-Ra, Nimir-Raj, I can’t…” 

Harry moved to get into Noah’s path. “I won’t let her feast on you. Now go. You are the only one unattached. You need to go.” 

“Then she can have me,” said Noah, his voice like steel as he drew himself up. “I won’t let her in view of either of you without me present. I am not only Micah’s guard, but I am yours. She can’t be worse than Chimera.” He spoke low enough so no one could hear him but Harry and Micah. 

“Are you sure about this, Noah? I’m the safest one here, likely,” said Micah. “You wouldn’t have to guard me anymore tonight.” 

Noah nodded sharply. “Yes. I’m sure. I’m not Merle. I know how to sacrifice and take it with a smile.” He smirked at this, showing a few of his sharper teeth. 

Harry leaned up on his toes, and he kissed Noah’s jaw. He would respect that. If that was what he truly wanted, then he would let the man stay. But, they couldn’t say he didn’t try. Noah accepted the kiss for what it was, and bowed his head to show submission. 

Harry and Noah had never really been what one would call close. He was always weary of Harry and Edward in particular. Edward scared the hell out of Noah, and so they never had much chance to talk or be around one another long enough to really gauge whether they would like each other. 

“Okay my leopard.” He stroked Noah on the forehead, and then turned and took both his men’s arms. “Let’s do this.” 

Musette stood by the white brick fireplace in the central common living space. She likely wasn’t afforded the luxury of going beyond the walls, they had yet to set up a designated spot within the magical enchantments that would see Jean-Claude and his Kiss safe. That had been on the itinerary for after Christmas when things slowed down. 

Jason’s description was exceptionally accurate. She was the only blonde Barbie doll in the room. She was indeed small, shorter than Harry by at least five inches. It made her barely five foot tall, and if she was wearing heels beneath her long white gown, then that made her even smaller. Her hair fell around her in white blond waves, but her eyebrows were black and perfectly arched. Her eyes were a vivid spring sky blue. Only a few shades bluer than Jason’s. 

She smiled prettily. Her lips stained with red lipstick. She had a striking almost child-like beauty. Her pomme de sang knelt at her feet like a pet. The girl’s long brown hair was piled on top of her head in a complicated layer of curls that made her look even younger than she was. She was pale, not vampire pale, but pale, and the icy blue of her long, old fashioned dress didn’t help give her any color at all. Her slender neck was smooth and untouched. If Musette was taking blood, Harry shuddered to think of where it was coming from. 

Not a pedophile? Somehow, Harry doubted it. Either that or she was a child herself with an adult face. He wouldn’t be surprised at all if this were the case. She looked like a young Fleur Delacour, if Harry was being honest. A man was with her, and he stood between the fireplace and the large white couch with it’s spill of gold and silver pillows. He was the opposite of Musette in every possible way. He was well over six foot, and he was built like an overly large swimmer. He was broad shouldered, slim-waisted, narrow hipped, with legs that seemed longer than Harry was tall. His hair was as black as Harry’s with blue highlights. It was tied in a thick braid down his back. His skin was as dark as skin that hadn’t seen much sun in centuries could be. Harry was betting he tanned with very little effort. He just hadn’t had the opportunity to catch any rays. 

His eyes were an odd blue green, aqua like the waters of the Caribbean. They were startling in his dark face, and should have added warmth and beauty. But they were cold. He should have been handsome, but he wasn’t, the sour expression on his face stole all that. He looked as if he were always in a bad mood. 

_ Might be the tights _ , Harry thought. He was dressed like he was going to Harry’s fourth year Yule Ball, and it was completed with a pair of tights that made his legs look even more swollen. 

Jason flopped, gracefully, into the gold chair closest to the fireplace. Asher stood on the other side of a silver chair as far away from Musette as he could get without leaving the room. 

Damian and Noah remained behind Harry, and when Musette spoke, she did so in a deep French accent that reminded him of Fleur again. Jean-Claude replied in French. He was saying that Harry couldn’t understand French. When she did speak in English it was heavily accented, and once again Fleur came to his mind. It sounded almost like she was gathering saliva in her mouth rather than sensual or beautiful like Jean-Claude’s sounded. 

“Damian, it has been long since you graced our court with your presence.” Strange, how she would first talk to Damian who had gone utterly still. 

“I am no longer a servant of my old mistress,” he said flatly. “She never did care for the life of the court.” 

“She is an odd one, your mistress Morvoren.” 

Harry could feel without having to touch him that the name provoked a reaction. It was like he’d been slapped. “Good thing she’s no longer his mistress,” said Harry, but Musette pretended he wasn’t even there. She was still focused on Damian.  _ Rude much?  _

“Morvoren is powerful enough to compete for a council seat. She was even offered the Earthmover’s old place. She would not even have had to fight for it. It was a gift.” She kept watch on Damian, studying his face, his body, his reactions. “Why do you think she refused such a bounty?” 

“It’s not in me to know,” said Damian as Harry silently offered a boost of his own energy. “I no longer answer to her.” Or you, he did not say. 

Musette frowned slightly at this as if the answer did not make her happy at all. “But to give up a seat on the council without a battle to risk? Isn’t that madness? Why would Morvoren do that?” 

Harry suppressed Damian’s flinch having discreetly slid his arm back to make physical contact with his servant, and sent pulses of his own energy or what have you into him. He was pleased to see that it worked. He hadn’t been sure, but if Damian could taste the things he ate, surely he could feel Harry’s steel and nerves right?

“Do I have to keep repeating the same answers to the same questions?” he asked with a touch of snark that would most likely come from Harry. “It is as I said. I would not know.” 

It made her even more unhappy. 

“Are you done yet? Redundancy doesn’t make you articulate,” said Harry as she turned her blue eyes to him. It was unfriendly with a mar of confusion. 

“So, this is the new one?” She walked toward them, and it wasn’t just gliding. It was a sway of hips. If she really thinks he’d go for something like her, she had been very misinformed. 

The tall dark man moved behind her like a shadow, and the young girl stayed sitting in front of the fireplace, her pale blue skirts spread around her like they’d been arranged. Her hands were very still in her lap. She looked arranged too. It was as if she’d been told to sit there, like that, and she would sit there until the last of the blood vanished and her circulation was cut. 

Yuck. 

Jean-Claude’s eyes flickered. “Age must be catching up to you, Musette.” Musette shot him a cold glare at this. “May I present to you, Harry Potter-Black, my human servant. My one and only. My first.” 

Harry didn’t need to be swept forward, he did it himself. He dared her to touch him. She began to revolve around him like a dance. Harry didn’t bother to follow the moves, and instead let his eyes do the following as though he were bored. As though she were nothing of interest to him. 

“You know the one I mean, Asher’s servant. What was her name?” There was a look in those blue eyes that said she knew damn well what the name was. 

“Once again, your age is showing. Her name was Julianna.” Musette looked confused when Jean-Claude’s voice held no emotion or pain at all, though Asher’s was a completely different thing. “But, Julianna was female and Asher’s servant. She was never mine.” 

She scanned Harry as she came to stand in front of him. Harry didn’t bother to even look at her human servant, and kept his eyes on her. 

Her own eyes tried to latch on him, and he flicked her mind away from him. “I never imagined you’d go for a male. I could ask for him.” She made to reach out, but something in the air had her drawing back. 

“Non. You know the rules. Even you must play by them, Musette,” Jean-Claude hissed with a gentle warning. 

“We could trade?” 

“Non.” 

“Isn’t my Angelito lovely?” 

“He is agreeable, but he is not mon Amour.” 

“You must honor me and give me a gift.” 

“It will never be mon Amour.” 

“Well, let me present you with our gift,” said Musette with a crimson smile. “Move aside, Angelito.” 

Harry looked at the painting that was revealed blankly. He was definitely not the right person to judge the art. It looked a bit like pieces they saw while in London, but nothing he recognized. There was some winged male figure laid naked on a couch with no cover. Probably meant to represent an angel or something. The figure looked to be asleep, and a closer look showed a lot of similarities between it and the blond vampire behind him.  _ Was this what Asher looked like before the scars? _ Harry wondered. 

Once he tore his gaze from the naked version of Asher, Harry noticed the dark haired figure peeking out from behind one of the wings.  _ Jean-Claude _ , his mind supplied. It wasn’t as good a representation of Jean as the winged figure was of Asher. Favoritism? Or an excuse to cause pain to ones who are now scarred?

To Harry the painting looked like the artist was showing an ideal version of the men. Not who they really were. On that basis alone Harry would be happy to reject it; however, he could feel Jean-Claude’s hatred of the piece and the reminder it represented. 

"Our mistress thought, since you are together again as of old, that you would enjoy this little reminder of days gone by." Musette spoke up from her spot. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Your ‘mistress’ needs to do better research.” He muttered loud enough to be heard by his men.

"The painting is our guest gift to our host, but we have a more personal gift just for Asher." Musette smirked, gaze locked on Asher.

Angelito moved up beside her like a dark mountain, a much smaller painting in his hands. There were remnants of the paper and twine that had covered it like a discarded skin on the floor. It was half the size of the other, but obviously in the same style. Likely by the same artist. 

The only light in the painting was firelight, the glow of the forge. It was once again of Asher naked. His body was colored gold and crimson with the reflected firelight. An edge of an anvil hid his groin in this one, but the right side of his body was highlighted. Even his hair was tied back in a loose ponytail so that the right side of his face couldn't be hidden. His arms were still strong as they pretended to forge the blade that lay on the anvil, but the right side of his face, the right side of chest, his stomach, his thigh, were a melted ruin.

Now Harry just felt insulted. One painting showing an idealized version of Asher, the other making him look disfigured. The first showing him a figure of interest to others, evident by the curious naked Jean-Claude, and the other showing him in isolation. 

“Those really don’t match anything we own, can we get a refund or change them out for something else?” Harry asked with a blank face.

“That’s not how this works, Mon Amour.” Jean-Claude chuckled.

“You mean there’s no gift receipt? Then I refuse them.”

"Asher, come and see your gift," Musette called, seemingly ignoring Harry’s comments.

Asher's voice came out strained, but clear from his spot at the back of the room. "I have seen that particular gift before. I know it well."

"Do you wish us to return to Belle Morte and tell her you did not appreciate her gift?"

"You may tell Belle Morte, that I have gotten exactly what she wished me to get out of her gifts."

"And what is that?"

"I am reminded of what I was, and of what I am."

“What? Hot and hot?” Harry interrupted. “We’ve had this conversation before Asher. I still don’t want either painting here. As Draco would say ‘It clashes with the decor’.”

Musette turned back to Jean-Claude, again ignoring Harry. "We have given our gift to you Jean-Claude, and to Asher. We await our guest gifts."

His voice was empty, so bland it was like listening to silence. "I have told you, Musette, our guest gifts are weeks away from completion."

"I'm sure you can find something to stand in their stead." She stared at Harry.

“I wouldn’t even think about it. You see, I’m toxic to those I don’t know,” he said waspishly. "Are you not an aristocrat, after all? Is it all pretend, and you simply don't know any better?"

Musette drew back as though she’d been slapped, and Asher and Jean-Claude drew in deep breaths. “How dare you accuse me of such-” 

“As the last member of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black and Potter bloodlines, I have every right to question the validity of your noble status, and surely a lady of such refineness as Belle Morte would never deign to subtly insult and hurt a member of a Lord and Master’s household? So, is this a gift from you or are you Belle Morte’s emissary and this is her gift to us? Are you acting on her behalf? If so, then I can excuse you of course. It is no fault of the lowly innocent messenger after all.” 

Jean-Claude had to draw back to keep from choking on laughs, and Harry could feel Asher’s mouth had dropped literally to the floor. 

Musette was caught like a cat, and Harry was smiling charismatically at her. Even the little girl on the floor had raised her head, and Angelito was looking from his master to Harry. His cold eyes confused as if he’d gotten lost in Harry’s English translation. 

“Are you asking for a gift on behalf of yourself or Belle Morte? Now that is the question so that we can make preparations to give you something depending on which steed you are here in. You are both different beings after all. It would be rude to offer you something inferior like you have done us, and we unlike yourself are all about nobility. Oh, and I liked the painting that was there before. Never fear, since we have to accept them, your gifts will be put to good use.”  _ On a kindling of fire _ , he didn’t say as he waved his hand, and Angelito flinched and what little color Musette had in her face drained when the portraits switched, and the memory portrait of Asher, Julianna, and Jean-Claude appeared back in it’s rightful place. 

“I have never been so insulted!” Musette squawked. “Jean-Claude, I demand you do something about your servant.” 

“You demand or Belle?” 

“I demand it!” 

“Then non because by right of law you have trespassed into our lands, and not on Belle Morte’s behalf, but your own behalf,” said Jean-Claude seizing the opportunity that Harry presented him with. “Now, if you would like you can return to your own and come back on the date that we had agreed on. Or you can stay as Musette and not a representative of Belle Morte, and we shall treat you with all the hospitality as such. We will have a gift prepared for you. It may be hasty, but it will be done. But, you have no cause to ask anything from us for the rest of the night as Musette.” 

Nothing was going according to plan, and Musette knew it. She was stunned, fumbling around her dim-witted mind as if trying to come up with something. Some line that she could use to get what she came for back on track. Her human servant touched her shoulder, and a ripple of a shudder went through her, and she tried to regain herself. 

“You say you are of noble blood?” 

“Oh yes. I am from a lot of noble blood, and the last of my line. You can trace me far back into the age of Merlin and Arthur Pendragon should you wish to. Belle Morte was acquainted with him, was she not?” 

“You claim to be-” 

“I did not claim either or. But I can be traced,” said Harry carefully. He had no idea what was further back in his line. He had no clue except for the Slytherin stuff. But, she didn’t know that. No one really did, and unless they had Harry’s kind of magic and a way with Potions they’d probably never figure it out. 

He then turned and pulled Damian by the wrist who naturally wrapped around Harry. “Does he not look similar to me at all?” 

Damian’s big green eyes glowed in a remarkable similarity to Harry’s. At least a thousand years could be traced just looking at his eyes. “My mother was just as beautiful. If you flip his gender, you have her standing here instead of him.” 

“How unexpected,” she said falling back, and seeming to calm down. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that I am here as Belle Morte’s representative. I do speak for her.” 

“But that is not what you claim, Musette.” 

“I claim now, that is all that matters. I demand a gift, and after the insult it better be a good one.” Her eyes traced Asher. “He is not attached. I want him.” 

“No.” 

“You have made it clear he is not apart of either of you. As if you would have him now or were the paintings not clear enough for you?” 

“Oh, they were crystal clear but you see-” 

“Asher has already been promised to me,” said a haughty voice behind them, and Harry did his best not to widen his eyes when he saw Draco standing there regally. He was dressed in tones of lilac and deep blue that enhanced his silvery gray eyes, and he looked every bit like Lucius Malfoy in that moment as he coldly swept through the room. “You see, I am the guest of honor for the holidays my lady. I have traveled as far as you have as their guest. I followed protocol and negotiations down to the letter.” His hand swept up and down Asher’s shoulder.

“Just who are you?” she asked airily. 

“Lord Draco Abraxas Malfoy at your service. I am the Heir to the House of Malfoy or has Traveler forgotten me so soon?” he asked sounding amused and slightly insulted at the same time. 

“Traveler?” Musette took in a breath, and looked over Asher. “You would truly have this stained and marred creature?” 

“He is beautiful, and we’ve always had an arrangement since he first arrived here. Lord Potter-Black and Master Jean-Claude surely know how to honor guests. I am a repeat guest here within these walls.” 

“You are always honored, Lord Malfoy,” said Jean-Claude with a tilt of his head. 

“My family hails from Normandy, sailed to Britain with King William the First. We own lots of land, lots of titles, and I am here to negotiate a treaty with Master Jean-Claude on behalf of my family.” 

Musette’s eyes went a bit hazy for a moment as if something was speaking into her ear, and Harry wondered if it was Belle Morte. 

“Give me the little wolf then.” Jason flinched and sat up straight on the couch. His face losing a bit of color as it did. He’d been watching and half listening in silence. 

“He is my pomme, and I will not trade with you. I’ve made that clear,” said Jean-Claude crisply. 

“I didn’t ask for a trade. I asked for him,” said Musette. 

“No,” said Harry. “He’s not only Jean-Claude’s pomme, but he is my wolf. I am Lupa.” 

“I was told this was so, but I scarcely believe such a thing.” 

Harry knew he would have to prove it, and so he gathered the energy of the dormant wolf inside of him, and then he pushed his energy toward Jason who let out a sound as he doubled over, and all of them watched the spectacle of Jason beginning to shift as Harry pulled the wolf to the front. 

“Lupa…” 

“It’s okay, Jason. Don’t fight it. Shift for me,” Harry commanded, and so he did. He shifted faster than he normally would, helped and backed by the energy from Harry. Where Jason was once sitting, was now a soft gray furred wolf the size of a pony. 

He tromped over gracefully to Harry and then rolled around like a great puppy. It forced Musette to back off or risk being knocked over. He raised his eyes, and almost laughed at Musette. 

“Impossible!” 

“Nothing is impossible. He is my wolf. He is Jean-Claude’s pomme de sang, gifted by my Ulfric.”

Musette straightened. “So, Jean-Claude isn’t your only master? You have an Ulfric too?” 

“I’m a pretty selfish creature. I don’t share.” 

“But they share you,” she sneered in disgust. 

“Yep,” said Harry proudly. “And no, Noah is off limits. He can’t exactly be our bodyguard if he’s undergoing blood loss or entertaining you, and as for Micah-” Before Musette could make another demand. “He is my Nimir-Raj. You can’t have him. You see, this is what happens when you don’t follow protocol. When you don’t let us finish our negotiations to not only see to your safe passage, but to see to the best gift we can possibly come up with for someone such as you.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you’re not supposed to be here, and you’ve brought illegals into this country, which I know was on the negotiations ban list, but we can forgive that. We can allow that.” As much as Harry wanted to throttle and kill her for forcing a child. He had to play devil’s advocate after all. “You need to be very careful, Musette. We can’t offer you as much protection as you would have if you’d come during the right time.” 

“Are you threatening me?” 

“No, but Brewster’s Law is threatening you,” he said mildly. “If you step a toe out of line, every Bounty Hunter will come for you, especially if they get wind of your illegals. We may be plenty and we may be strong, but we can’t fight them all.” 

“Nor would we,” said Micah who hadn’t said a word this whole time. “If you had waited. You’d have been treated like a Princess.” But never a Queen, Harry didn’t need to hear his thoughts. 

Jean-Claude stepped forward. “If you wish for a gift you can at least have the courtesy of giving us the night to procure something appropriate, Musette. You are welcome here, despite the difficulties that have come about. But you will hold to the negotiations and the rules that we have already set up.” 

“You’ve grown bold, Jean-Claude,” she said with a giggle. “I remember clearly when you were within my grasp. Just a bebe,” she cooed. 

“Of that I am no longer.” 

“Belle was most perturbed that you rose to Master of the City without that one last visit, Jean-Claude,” said Musette, and it seemed to Harry that she was trying to appeal to him in some weird way. “She woke speaking your name, saying that you had struck out on your own. None of us thought you would ever rise so high.” 

He gave a low sweeping bow, and she was suddenly standing close enough that his hair almost brushed her skirt. “It is not often that anyone so surprises Belle Morte. I am most honored.” He meant that in mocking, but said it in such a way that it would take a lot to see the mocking. He was good at that. Just as good at Draco, who was streaking fingers through Asher’s hair. 

Harry looked at Damian, and knew it had been him who had informed Draco of their guest. He had to have. How else would he have known? Merlin, Draco was a God-send at times. 

Musette frowned. “You should be. She was most… unhappy.” 

He stood slowly. “Why would my rise to power make her unhappy?” That was kind of obvious, and Jean-Claude knew it too. But he wanted to hear the answer anyway. 

“Because to be Master of the City is to be beyond the ties of obligation.”

Ties of obligation meant a lot to some vampires. More so than anything else. It fell quiet around the room, and Jean-Claude smiled. “No surprise that I have unbound that obligation and chosen new ones to take their place. Ones that are much less superfluous.” 

She frowned deeper at the insult. “But Asher has not risen so high. He could still be called home.” 

Like hell would they let him. 

“That is, of course, her purview, but I would need some notice before Asher was called away. America is less settled than Europe. Mon Amour is right, what with Brewster’s Law in effect. Besides, Belle Morte no longer needs me or Asher.” 

“Especially with the way she treated him,” said Harry harshly making Musette turn and glare at Harry. 

“It is her prerogative. He is hers.” 

“No he isn’t,” said Harry. “Not as long as he’s apart of this household. He is not hers.” 

“You would stand against her?” 

“Yep. Do you think I became Lupa and Nimir-Ra by chance and luck?”  _ Yes _ , everyone thought. “I seize everything I want from all around me. If I want it. I get it.” Sounded so much like Draco or Lucius that he was surprised Draco didn’t start snickering. It was so not him at all. But it was what a haughty Pureblood noble would say, and Harry had a lot of experiences to draw upon. 

“But why? Why would he want to be apart of any of you? Did Asher not leave to have revenge on Jean-Claude and his human servant? He wanted to extract payment for his beloved Julianna’s death.” 

“It was not his fault. It was no one, but those who burned her,” said Asher quietly. “It is the folly of all of us to seek out revenge when pain is most great. But, Jean-Claude, just the same as I, was helpless and unable to predict the future; he could not have seen it coming.” 

“So,” she snapped her fingers, “like that, all your pain, your hatred is forgotten.” 

“Pain never forgotten, but hatred is an emotion that can be wielded by the wrong sort, and I have learned more at Jean-Claude’s side and as his second, and friend to his human servant that I ever learned being apart of Belle Morte’s court.” His voice and tone never wavered, his eyes were both showing now, and he let the scars become visible. Draco had drawn his hair back like a drape. “I no longer hide.” 

Draco drew up to level himself with Asher and to Harry’s surprise, he not only kissed the melting scars below his eyes, but he licked them down to his jaw. It was probably something Harry would have done more than Draco. But it seemed Draco realized that if Harry could mimic him, Draco could mimic Harry. Ah, best friends. “A Malfoy only takes the best to his bed after all,” he drawled. “Not our fault she can’t appreciate the best, no matter what he or she wears.” 

That was not what she had expected. Harry was going to guess she was going to tease them about being another threesome. About Harry being a replacement, and how he could not replace the touch of a woman or dare he say it, Belle Morte. 

“Is this what has become of your disgust of Asher?” Musette tossed at Jean-Claude. 

“You are mistaken if you find that I am disgusted. You do not read very well of faces, Musette. Asher is the dearest friend I hold, but he is not my lover. It would be honorless should I take him to our bed. Harry is not a replacement for Julianna, and will never be. We are not replacements for Belle Morte, but there is more to a bed than the hunger of flesh. I have learned this, and now it is Asher’s turn. It does not matter how beautiful one is. How lovely their body or how velvety it is, when it is only fleeting. It never lasts, and that velvet turns coarse. Lust is fleeting. It gets sated and disappears, but love. Love is the keeper of all, and I truly love Asher in a way that far outweighs the hunger of flesh.” 

“Belle Morte is sickened at the sight of me,” said Asher, finally. “She avoids me in all things, and so why should I return where I am not wanted?” 

Musette swayed her way back to stand in front of Asher. Draco pulled the vampire closer to him, his eyes narrowing in threat toward the woman who flicked her hair. “To be least among her court is better than ruling anywhere else.” 

Harry and Draco looked at each other, and then both threw their head back and laughed to the point that it spread through the room, and caused everyone to look at them. Draco slipped in front of Asher, and faced Musette, lowering his head so that they were eye to eye. “If you have to open your mouth and preach the gospel of your mistress then she is not worth serving in the slightest.” 

“Our mistress is the sun, the moon, the all. To be parted from her, only that is true death.” Musette’s face was rapturous, glowing with that inner certainty usually reserved for the crazy zealots that reminded them of Death Eaters. Of Bellatrix Lestrange, and boy was that a mistake.

Harry couldn’t see Damian’s face, but Harry was betting it was carefully blank as the rest. Jason was staring at Musette as if she’d sprouted a second head, an ugly, spiky second head. She was a zealot, and zealots are never quite sane. But, Harry and Draco were entirely amused. So amused it tickled them down to their toes, and they exchanged snickers. 

“What?!” Musette growled. “What?!” 

Micah arched a brow at Harry. “Okay there, Baby?” 

“Just fine,” he sang sung. “Draco, my git of a friend. Have at it, please.” 

Draco snorted. “Potter, you’re ridiculous.” 

“Love you too.” 

Musette was staring back and forth at them. “Are you laughing at me?” 

“Yes.” Both said at the same time. 

“You think it’s a joke? Jean-Claude, do you approve of this?” 

“I cannot say either or. I am curious though.” He looked from Harry to Draco. 

Draco chuckled coolly, and he sounded like his Princely fifth year self. “I am not part of this household, my Lady. I am at no one’s service. You and your Mistress are nothing to me. You’re little more than peasants in the eyes of my superior magical blood that has been enriched for centuries before you ever came into being,” he hissed causing her to draw back. “My blood is rich and pure, and you’re nothing but a filthy once upon a time Muggle who has no right to stare me in the eyes,” he sneered in the perfect ol’ Draco way. 

She gawked at him, and Harry let him have at it as dozens of new figures appeared in the doorway. It was Edward and Rafael who were leading them. A half dozen wolves, werehyenas, and even rats circled the room causing Angelito to stand at attention. 

“Are we late?” asked Jamil. “Ulfric is on rotation and couldn’t leave, but we’re here.” 

Shang-Da nodded, and took up a stoic position. 

Harry leaned back into Edward’s chest. No one noticed him, so interested in Draco all of a sudden. It was the smell of gun and metal that tipped him off, and Micah was the second to notice him. Slowly the rest of the room did. Harry shivered as the two shared a brief kiss, and Jean-Claude made his way over. 

“Am I missing something?” Edward asked, leaning forward against Harry. A gun was resting against his hip. 

“Fun has just started, mon Tueur d’Ombre,” said Jean-Claude. “I welcome you all into my home. I thank you for coming.” The Hyenas were a new edition. 

After the Chimera debacle, Narcissus had come to the realization that he needed more than his hyenas to protect them, and had formed a tentative alliance with Harry and Jean-Claude. He, or rather technically she, was still pregnant with that child he had wanted. It was two months and going. Draco was giving him regular treatments to keep him from shifting every month. A combination of magic and potions. So far it was working. 

“Not a problem, Jean-Claude. Just tell us where you want us,” said Rafael. “You okay, Harry?” 

“Never better, Rafael.” Harry chirped, and he already knew he won the battle for the night. 

“The Malfoy’s do not serve anyone but themselves. No longer do we crawl on our hands and knees, mistakes have been made and they were learned well and thoroughly. We are Pureblood. We are dignified and we hold pride and ambition in the palm of our hands. We hold it like the sun, ready to crush it at any given opportunity.” 

“If you are not part of the household, you are anyone’s meat.” It was then the room seemed to swell, and a couple of child vampires appeared from behind the curtains and drapes. Guns were soon trained on them from the hyenas, rats, and wolves. Edward had his gun pointed right into the face of Angelito who froze when the safety was pulled back. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

“I’d like to see you try. Have you ever encountered a real wizard? I’d be very careful what you pull out next. We have an arsenal that you could only dream of. Your parlor tricks are nothing to the sun that we can cast at any time through any shadow or the enriched lava of fire that can see the entirety of Riverfront destroyed or how about the cold sleep of death? No guns. No rituals. Just a couple of words and an endless emerald dream consumes you.” 

“He’s channeling you, Little Raven,” Edward said thoughtfully. 

“Where do you think I get some of my diplomacy from, Edward?” Harry asked breathlessly. “I learn to listen and watch. I’m a good student.” 

“Yes, you are. I can’t kill them, can I?” 

“Not when the fun hasn’t even started,” said Harry. 

“Just an appetizer then?” Edward acknowledged. 

“Yup. I’ll point you toward the dessert table in time.” 

Micah and Jean-Claude just laughed drawing Musette’s attention. She was slowly inching away from Draco and Asher. Angelito had crossed over to be closer to her. A line of worry showing on his forehead. 

“All of this over a gift?” Musette cooed. “How cruel of you.” 

Harry stepped out of Edward’s touch, and walked the floor. “No, it’s over the insult you cast across our household, and to an honored guest. You can tell Belle that no one comes into our territory and harms our people. It’s clearly written in the negotiation treaty that was sent to her because I will only give you one fair and clear warning from here on out. If you do, you are dead. We will take your heads, their hearts, and I’ll burn everything to the ground.” 

“You would not dare,” she found her voice, but it had fear lacing every bit of it. “All over him? All over a mutilated corpse?” she sneered. 

“He’s ours, and he’s one of the most beautiful sights we have ever seen. You can try me. Try us.” 

It was like a light switch right then, the fear began to fade from Musette’s face, and it vanished like someone wiping it away. Her blue eyes began to darken, and Harry saw them bleed a familiar honey color. They swirled to the surface, the darkness of them overwhelmed the blue until all was left was honey. 

“Hello Madam,” said Harry. She had once tried to get into him. She had managed. She was one of the few who had landed on target, but not for long. Never for long. 

She was looking at Harry, tilting Musette’s head from side to side as if inspecting him. “I could make you mine. You both could be mine.” She looked over at Draco. Asher took in a sharp breath, and ducked his head. 

“No.” Harry and Draco intoned at the same time. 

“We’ve dealt with a Dark Lord. We don’t need a Dark Mistress,” said Harry flatly. 

“Is that why you hold no fear?” She turned back to Harry. 

“Nothing you do can scare us,” said Harry simply. “You can’t do what has already been tried on us. Draco and I come from a world that saw war when we were in our nappies. We lived it. We breathed it, and we cast it away from us. Don’t make me do the same to you, Madam.” He wanted to try and show her compassion. Show her that he was not angry with her, but he wanted to warn her that there were rules, there were laws that would not be broken. “Do not take our human looks and status for granted. We are demons should you give us an incentive.” 

“Oui, delicious little demons you both are,” she said looking back and forth. “But you have insulted my emissary. You are threatening her. That means you would threaten me.” 

Harry shook his head. “We have broken no laws or no rules unlike Musette. She is here three months too early. Did you not teach your children to tolerate nothing? No hint of disobedience? No breath of revolution? No insult is tolerated? I am Jean-Claude’s human servant. I am Lupa of the Thronnos Rokke Clan, and I am a Nimir-Ra. I hold my titles like you hold your children. No one threatens my family.” 

Shockingly, she smiled at him. “You have taught him, Jean-Claude. I am proud.” 

“You should be. I learned it from you,” said Jean-Claude moving to stand beside Harry. “I never forget. But I am no longer your creature. I am a Master of the City now. I am my own, and Asher is ours. I will be what you brought me up to be Belle. I will let mon Amour do as he likes because his will is mine, and my will is his. Musette will learn better manners or she will not be coming home to you ever again.” 

“You know what I would do, Jean-Claude, if you harmed her,” said Bella in warning. 

“I know that according to our own laws, the laws you helped enact, that no one is allowed to simply enter a territory without negotiating safe passage. In effect, they are outlaws, and have no rights, no safety. I could slaughter them all and the council would be on my side. You have too many people on the council that fear you, Belle. They would think it a good joke.” 

“You would not dare.” 

Harry and Jean-Claude looked at her with the same expression of a promise that would be a fact. Both were so in tune with each other. “You will not harm Asher, not anymore,” said Jean-Claude. 

“He is nothing to you, Jean-Claude.” 

But instead of Jean-Claude answering, it was Harry. “Anyone in this household is everything to us, Madam, and that goes for anyone who serves the household in any capacity. Asher is a beautiful and treasured member of the family,” said Harry. “You may be beautiful, but I have seen beauty in the veela that roam my world. I have seen beauty in the unicorns that dance beneath the moonlight. But beauty never lasts. Eventually it withers and it fades, and all you have left is what is in you.” 

“I will never fade away.” 

“Everyone fades. All species. Everything dies. Everything withers, madam. It is no threat or promise. It simply a fact of nature. You may be a Beautiful Death, but I am simply a servant of the real Death.” 

The look she gave him was heady. She turned to Jean-Claude, and Harry noticed his eyes were not on her, but on Harry. Everyone’s attention was on Harry. Jason who was still a wolf sat at Harry’s feet. He was nuzzling at his thighs with his muzzle. All the invited wolves, rats, and hyenas dotted around them. 

Edward stood behind, simply watching the games play out. 

Angelito was right behind Musette, and the girl on the floor was still on the floor. Merlin, she could not be that comfortable. Musette had brought child vampires. A boy and a girl with her. Both of them looked vicious and ready to tear someone apart. Merlin, they couldn’t have been older than ten or eleven. 

Rafael and his men had their guns trained on them, and Shang-Da was at Edward’s back, his gun loose and staring at Angelito without blinking. Micah was leaning against Jean-Claude so that Edward had his hands free for any sudden attacks. Noah was on his other side, and Damian was always within touching distance of Harry. 

Asher by now had wrapped his arms around Draco. He was clutching him, and watching and listening to everything. Draco while not leaning into him was stoically running a palm up his wrist. 

It wasn’t that Draco liked Asher or knew him that well except through casual acquaintance. It was simply Draco’s nature to outsmart someone, and having once been on the receiving end of people who tried to grab at him. He was not putting up with it any longer.

“You have cast me away, Jean-Claude. How could you?” She sounded like a hurt mother or lover or some such. “You took Asher from me.” 

“You did not want him. I want him. But not in the way of lust because he does not deserve that.” He looked at Asher. “It would only hurt and damage him further. I want him as my friend. At my side. As a person who is forever in my heart. You only know lust. You know sexual appetite. You do not see love.” 

“But, I do. Was my bed not enough?” 

“No. It will never be enough. It is this I have learned.” 

Belle Morte looked over at Harry with a sour expression. “This is your fault.” 

“Hey, he chased me for years,” said Harry waspishly. “I said no for years on end. It’s his fault!” 

Micah and Jean-Claude both laughed, and Belle had a strange look on her face. “Why would you say no? How could you say no?” 

“I have never and will never be rolled or mesmerized, and all those I have come to love and share a bed with are far more intricate and complex than sex and lust.” Micah made a noise right then, and Harry scowled. “You be quiet back there!” 

“I didn’t say anything!” Micah squeaked while holding up his hands. 

“I heard your mind! Do be quiet, Nimir-Raj!” 

“Yes, yes, Nimir-Ra.” 

“Anyway, the point is. It’s not my fault. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. You can choose your lust, but you can’t choose who to love, and I do believe in some strange way you do love Jean-Claude. You do love Asher. In your own way, but because they loved each other, and you hurt one of them that love was lost.” 

“I could love them again.” 

“Non. You would possess me again. You would never love Asher as you do not know how,” said Jean-Claude bowing his head. “You would mistreat him and hurt him.” 

“You would not see him for the beautiful man that he is. You only see scars. But, then aren’t scars beautiful too? In their own way? All of them tell a story. A beautiful story that can sometimes be tragic.” 

“I don’t understand how imperfection can be beautiful.” 

“Imperfection is the only thing that’s beautiful. Perfection is ugly because it’s not real. It’s fake. It’s pretend. It doesn’t last. Perfection is not permanent. It’s not reality.” 

“So, you love because the world is imperfect?” Belle looked at him bizarrely. 

“Yes. You have to love because the world is imperfect. Lust is perfect, but it fades. It fades quickly, and you’re left with the consequences. You should know this well. Your power is such that you can make the world have consequences.” 

“Oui. You are a bright child. Jean-Claude has learned well from me.” 

“You cannot fault him for taking your traits for himself. I mean, wouldn’t it be a dishonor if a treasured child of yours bowed down in his own city to someone else? Wouldn’t that be beneath you? It would be more insulting to your entire bloodline should he bow down for them, and let them have their way. Your line is not weak after all. Why would you want them to show it?” 

Belle observed him for a long time, and then smiled. It looked strange on Musette’s face because it was a natural smile. Not fabricated. “You’re an interesting creature, Harry Potter-Black.” 

“I am simply me. Just Harry.” 

“You are far more than that. We will see each other again.” 

Something flowed beneath Musette’s skin. It was like watching a second face roll underneath her skin. It reminded Harry of Voldemort on the back of Quirrell’s head, and then like a puff of smoke she vanished. Musette fell back onto the floor into a dead faint. 


	5. Chapter Five

Her vampires rushed forward, the wolves and Edward stayed at Harry’s back. The wererats had their guns out and pointed. 

“Let them fetch their mistress. We do not wish to deal with them anymore than we have to,” said Jean-Claude. 

Rafael nodded sharply, and Bobby Lee, one of his enforcers snorted. “So, no bloodshed tonight? Almost disappointed. Too much diplomacy, Little Hellcat.” 

As the drama in the room began to settle Harry took stock of the new arrivals. The new extremely young arrivals that had Rafael and others hissing with disgust. Angelito was no longer the most dangerous on Musette’s side. 

A little girl of about seven or eight with dark curls cut short around an angelic face flashed dainty little fangs at Harry only for the sound of a silver clicking barrel making the girl glare up at Edward who had drawn his gun to point at her head. 

She hesitated only slightly when she actually saw the emptiness in his eyes, and then there was an older boy who looked between ten and twelve. He picked Musette’s shoulders up, raising her limp figure off the ground as if she weighed nothing. He didn’t flash fangs, but he looked at Harry with dark, unfriendly eyes. 

There was only one adult aside from Angelito with them. At least, Harry thought it was an adult. A male vampire in a dark conservative suit got Musette’s feet, though he made no move to take the small woman from the boy. Harry knew the male vampire could have carried her easily, but hadn’t argued with the boy. It wasn’t like the kid lacked strength. Just height, and leverage. 

They carried her back to Angelito who had made no moves with the surrounding shifters. Jean-Claude drew himself up, and glided past Harry and Edward making the unfriendly little angel stiffen. 

Good, he looked nervous now more than cold and angry. It was much better for his eyes. “We have prepared rooms for all of you. You will be escorted to them, then we will leave guards outside your doors for protection of all concerned. Unless you wish to find your own accommodations.”

It was a light-hearted comment, and for anyone else it would sound like a choice, but the reality was that Musette and her entourage were not only illegal, but here outside of negotiations would see them as anyone’s meat. Anyone could come in and slaughter them all. 

“Can you spare a few?” Edward turned to Rafael. 

“Of course,” said Rafael. “Bobby Lee, you mind?” 

Bobby smirked. “Not at all.” All the rats had good experience with vampires who were too young looking. 

“Jamil,” Harry chose instantly from his wolves. He wanted Shang-Da outside Jean-Claude’s personal rooms. 

Jamil straightened and nodded. “My pleasure, Lupa.” He may be a pain in the ass, but Jamil was no bleeding heart and would not be moved by children vampires. In fact, he would more likely be disgusted by them if the expression on his face was anything to go by.

“Meng Die, Faust, you know the way to the rooms. Show our guards where to go, and one of you remain behind,” Jean-Claude ordered. In case of any accidents. 

Meng Die was one of Jean-Claude’s and a direct descendent from him. She was a beautiful and small woman with a China doll face and perfectly straight black hair cut just above her shoulders. She reminded Harry of Cho Chang just a bit, except Cho Chang did not have near the beauty Meng Die has. She had risen to Master Vampire fast and powerful enough to make her former Master in San Francisco very nervous, and it was no surprise that her animal to call was wolves. Just the same as her technical father. 

Faust was not much taller than Meng Die, but he didn’t make anyone think delicate. Just short. He was cheerfully attractive like a boy next door. He was also a lot of fun to be around. His hair had been dyed a dark wine-burgundy, and his eyes were the color of copper. He too was a Master Vampire, but did not have the vicious bite that Meng Die has. 

She did not like Harry for some reason, and then it dawned on him why when she kept casting silent glares. Damian was still wrapped around him, and had made no glances at her. He never really did when Harry was nearby. 

Ulysses, Ares, and Ajax, three of the werehyenas that Narcissus often provided with their treaty, would also be guarding the halls on the guest part side of the rooms. Harry had no idea when they came to call or how they even knew, but after Harry had drained Chimera of all his life and healed Narcissus (entirely accidentally admittedly) the Oba of the Werehyenas had become much more accomodating and friendly. It also helped that he or rather she was still pregnant, and they were monitoring carefully until he could deliver. He had also been one of the first to accept Micah, Rafael, and Marcus’ proposal for a coalition. It was really telling when over three hundred werehyenas were completely neutered when their leader was taken out of the equation. No way was Musette going through their side, and even then Edward was likely to be patrolling all night or in irregular intervals. Draco had taken Asher with him, likely back to Harry’s house. Harry so didn’t want to know what was being planned between them. Draco was too sibling-like for him to find intrigue. 

Noah, Damian, Shang-Da, and Claudia took post in rotation outside of Jean-Claude’s personal rooms, not that they doubted Harry and Draco’s sublime charms. It had proven to keep out even the vampire council, but tonight no one could be too sure. 

“Children?” It was Edward’s first words tonight. 

“Oui,” said Jean-Claude unhappily once they were all behind closed doors, Rafael joining them inside the room. Jean-Claude was sitting on a long soft white chaise lounge with his legs curled, but his shoulders were slightly hunched and his hands were splayed across his belly. 

“They qualify to be instantly executed,” said Micah sitting on the end of Jean-Claude’s bed. Today the drapes were a silk blue with mounds of pillows with multiple blue shades dotted around. Every week he liked to change them out, give new color, and vibrancy. Last week it had been tones of green, and before that Harry had no idea there was so many brown and black variants out there. 

“Oui, and so long as my hands can stay free, and it cannot be tracked back to me, you are free to do as you wish, mon Tueur d’Ombre. I did not expect them tonight. I am sorry your hunting was interrupted so rudely.” 

“And you couldn’t have just killed them?” 

“I only wish. Musette is the stuff of nightmares, mon Tueur d’Ombre.” 

Harry had been quiet the entire time. Just hanging out across the bed near Micah and Rafael who sat on its end, and making no moves to speak or add to the conversation. 

“She really wanted Asher, hm?” Micah prompted. 

“Oui.” 

“I don’t understand that,” said Harry, finally raising up. “Belle doesn’t even want Asher. Why would she be so focused on him? I’m beginning to think they’ve come here to try and drag him back.” 

“Oui, and you may be right about that, mon Amour. But, Belle takes exception to those who willingly leave her side. Asher chose us, which in her eyes is betrayal,” said Jean-Claude. “I admit before you arrived, I was not thinking very clearly. All I could do was send Asher to you. I was wrought with fear until the moment I felt you arrive, mon Amour. You gave me a courage I did not have before.” 

“She didn’t seem all that much,” Rafael said, causing Jean-Claude to frown. 

“That is because she needs minimal. She is the mon Tueur d’Ombre of Belle’s forces.” He looked at Edward. 

“I resent that. I am much better than her, and she is hiding behind children.”

“She’s also a zealot. Edward is a lot of things, but a zealot isn’t one of them,” Micah pointed out. 

“I should have corrected. She is a combination of Raina and Gabriel with a penchant for children. Just her methods are sociopathic in nature to an extreme degree.” 

“Word to the right people would see her executed, all of them,” said Edward, and Harry knew he’d take great pleasure in ending Musette. Might even get a bit bloody. Bloody enough to turn Edward’s head a time or two. 

“If she oversteps any further, I will not bar anyone’s path. I know I cannot. I guess I just remember what she did to me for two centuries under her care.”

“You were tortured for two centuries?” Micah asked wide-eyed. 

“Oui. When I went back for Asher, and I begged Belle Morte to save his life. I bartered with two centuries of my own. For the first three years, all was fine. I was locked in a coffin with crosses after all. It could have been worse, but then I was passed around and was any master vampire’s meat for the taking. I had lost favor because I chose Asher over her.” Harry’s heart hurt thinking about it, and it caused him to nose into one of the pillows to hide the pain on his face. 

“Sounds like a jealous woman,” said Edward stoically. 

“Oui. A very envious woman, Belle Morte is. She does not understand anything more than lust and sexual appetite. She knows how to use it and how to twist it. Some of the things that they had me do, most would not have survived the two centuries. She no longer cared, she used everything against me. My ardeur, when it was out of control, and she knew how to bring it out of control. She could bring it to rise at any time, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

“Asher doesn’t have the ardeur does he?” asked Micah. 

“Non. But, he has orgasmic bites. So it is a trace of it. It is rather rare to come through in the same way that Belle has hers. Those who do have the ardeur often have a variant form. Kind of like a tailor to who we are. Asher is one of the best mesmerizers I have ever seen.” 

By now, Edward had crossed over to sit on the end of the white chaise as Jean-Claude slumped further. 

“The only way we can act on them is if they go outside their bounds. What are they allowed to ask for?” 

“Hunting rights or willing donors, lovers. The basic needs of all vampires.” 

“No one will do a child,” said Edward coldly. 

“Non, and I would never expect it, Edward. It is why they were carefully chosen to be brought. To try and trap me. To see what I would do. It would also be declasse to demand lovers for the servants, so Musette’s lady’s maid and butler are not to be worried over. The two children are special cases. The girl is physically too young, she does not think of such things. The boy is a problem. Bartolome was always precocious, which is why Belle sent Musette to take him.” 

“Explain the children,” said Micah, his mouth shifting in disgust as he said the word children. 

“Are you telling me the boy has engaged with that woman?” asked Edward. 

“Oui. As I said, Belle Morte can smell sexual appetite. It is one of her many gifts. Bartolome may look like a child, but he does not think like one. Nor did he when he was human, and a true boy of eleven going on twelve. He was the heir to a great fortune. Belle wanted to control that fortune. He was also notorious in an age when noble sons were allowed almost any indiscretion with women who were not of noble blood. He used that innocent face to maneuver women into compromising situations, and by the time they realized that they were in danger of abuse, it was often too late. More than that, he threatened to accuse them of being the aggressor. There was no such phrase as child molestation in that century, but everyone knew it happened. Children were often married as young as ten or eleven, so the people who had such tastes could satisfy their needs with the marriage bed, until their spouses became too old for their tastes. Then they would look outside their marriage, or by that time their own children might be old enough.” 

Micah and Rafael had disgust at the idea. Harry said nothing, and Edward was never surprised. 

“That is disgusting, Jean-Claude.” Rafael stated.

“Oui. But it is still true. A fortune as large at Bartolome’s would normally be Belle’s task. She would never leave such monies or lands and titles to anyone else. But she is not a lover of children, no matter how grown up they may be. So, she cast it to Musette. Who, as you now realize, will do anything our mistress bids her to do.” 

“She can be held accountable for that,” said Edward.

“Oui. Belle gave her a touch of the ardeur and Bartolome was enraptured. Belle did not mean to bring him over to us as a boy. She meant to wait until he grew older. But, Bartolome was thrown from his horse. He had crushed his skull, and was dying. His next brother was only five, and that was out of the question even for back then. So she bid Musette to finish him.” 

“I bet he didn’t like the idea of being a little boy forever,” said Micah. 

“Not at all. Bringing children over is forbidden for a reason. Musette did not make Valentina one of us. Belle found that one of her Master Vampires was a pedophile and had brought over children to be his permanent companions.” His voice was soft at the end. 

“Jesus,” Micah hissed. 

“He had broken our prohibition against bringing over children, and when Belle Morte found out why he had done it. She slew him. They destroyed most of the children that he had made. They were vampires trapped in children’s bodies, they had been abused. Even ones not abused end up twisted.” 

“How did she escape?” asked Edward. 

“She was his newest and had to yet to be touched. She was a child and a vampire, but she was not mad. Belle took her in and found her people to care for her. She had human nannies for many years. She had human playmates. I must say Belle did her best for Valentina. I think she blamed herself for not realizing what a true monster Sebastian was.” 

“That couldn’t have ended well,” said Micah. 

“You know too well, mon Chaton. Valentina tried to turn some of her playmates into vampires so that she would not be the only one. When her nanny discovered her, Valentina slit her throat. That was the end of the human nannies and playmates.” 

“Let me guess, one of them was the nanny?” Edward prompted. 

He nodded. “She does not truly need one in the traditional sense of a child’s needs, but she is forever eight. Even today she cannot catch a taxi by herself, register in a hotel without people wondering. Some well-meaning human will call the police to report the poor abandoned child that’s staying in their hotel.” 

“God, she must hate her existence,” said Micah shuddering. 

“I do not speak to Valentina.” 

“You’re afraid of her?” Edward asked. 

“Non, mon Tueur d’Ombre. I am unnerved by her. The few children that survive for centuries are twisted things. It cannot be otherwise.” 

“How did she end up with Musette?” 

“Valentina was taken before her body grew large enough for much physical pleasure. She has turned such energies into other,” he licked his lips, “avenues of interest.” 

“Musette is Belle’s torturer, which means that Valentina is what, her little assistant?” 

“She is a very apt pupil.” 

“She can’t have anything,” said Edward. “If she tries asking for her, I will kill her.” 

“Oui, I shall make that clear. I do not want her anywhere near me or my city.” 

“She was one of your torturers,” Edward realized. 

“Oui.” 

“Can we make the no stick? Refusing them?” Rafael asked. “I mean, she brought a Pomme, no matter how disgustingly young she is.” 

“What were you planning to do for her arrival?” Edward asked. 

“One of Narcissus werehyenas was caught shifting in public and exposing himself. He offered him in punishment.”

“So she has no real leg to stand on. We offer what we can, and if she refuses then it’s on her,” said Micah. “Baby are you okay back there?” 

“Hn.” Harry had not said a word this entire time. Just listening. It sounded way too much like Voldemort’s bloody regime, the whole damn thing. Bellatrix in particular liked causing havoc, and had a penchant for the torture of children. She’d had her wicked way through Hogwarts before the end. 

“What was with Draco tonight? I’ve never seen him act like that before!” said Micah, turning to look at the lump that was Harry burying himself beneath the pillows. 

“He was channeling the Draco when I hated him.” 

“Why were you laughing?” Edward asked curiously. 

Harry snickered, and finally raised up like a cat. His smile having turned coy all on its own. “It’s just funny to me. Musette isn’t scary. She’s disgusting. Belle is not winning any favors with me. You see, how old is Belle?” 

“Old,” said Jean-Claude.

“Let’s see Voldemort was born in 1926. He was at his height of power by the time 1980 rolled around. Everyone feared him, breathing his name was taboo, and he had armies and forces at his side that drained everyone dry. Let me paint a picture for you. My year saw only fifty or so children coming to Hogwarts, but back before Voldemort the population was in the mid hundred range. He killed everyone and everything that crossed his path and said no to him. He bred poison through the Ministry. He used the Muggle world as his playground, but in the end he was blown apart, and then he comes back, and it took him two years or so to get that same power back. Draco finds it funny because he had been forced into servitude by someone who invokes real fear in him. His whole family was, and he was laughing because it was so reminiscent. So it’s laughable that someone would try and be the next Dark Lord or Mistress or what have you. Something that after facing Voldemort we would find a joke.” 

“Before Voldemort there was Grindlewald, and Merlin knows who was before Grindlewald. No one knows, no one cares. But, it took Belle and them what, three-four hundred years to come into their height of power?”

“I see what you are saying,” said Jean-Claude licking his lips. “Draco really showed his metal fortitude tonight. I was surprised.” 

“Me too! Well, surprised at his arrival. But, not surprised with how he went about things. He knows how to work a crowd. He taught me a lot even when I hated him. He taught me how to work the masses when needed. He taught me how to be - well - how to be a Pureblood idiot. I guess we’ve just handled so much rubbish that I just don’t care anymore? She won’t touch Asher. She won’t get her hands on any of ours, especially if they are unwilling. She oversteps, we kill her. End of discussion.” 

“Now you sound like Edward.” Rafael smiled. 

“Yes he does,” said Edward proudly. “But he’s not wrong.” 

“To me, Musette is nothing more than Bellatrix Lestrange, and you want to know who killed her? It wasn’t me,” said Harry languidly. “It was Molly Weasley. Bella was Voldemort’s lieutenant. His enforcer. She sickens me. But she doesn’t scare me, and these twisted children are anyone’s game. She can’t protect them. Let’s make that well known. She might not be able to die, but they could. They are not, Belle.” 

“He’s right.” 

“Why did Molly go after her?” asked Micah. Most, save for Rafael remembered Molly Weasley.

“You don’t touch people’s children,” said Harry with a smirk. “Most don’t like that, and they tend to fight back.” Funny, how that seemed to ironically work in this situation. 

As everyone descended into silence, thoughts rolled over them all, and Harry flopped down again. He was feeling rather odd after everything happening. 

“You all give me the strength to not be frightened. It’s remarkable and frightening all at once,” Jean-Claude confessed. 

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Jean-Claude. But why do they fear you?” asked Micah tilting his head. “I know you’re powerful and ruthless, but you’re kind of like Harry in that you need a cause. A reason. You are not insane like some masters we’ve met.” 

“That is the question isn’t it?” Jean-Claude tilted his head. “I do not know. Probably because if I wished I could house a lot of revenge. I could house a lot of hatred for my two centuries of servitude. Maybe they fear what I could do with this power against those who used me.” 

“Now you sound like Harry,” said Rafael smirking. 

“Speaking of, shall we discuss the elephant in the room?” Micah cocked his head back, and Harry let out a squeaking moan of despair, and clutched the pillows closer. 

“Micah…!” All of Harry’s men, and Rafael straightened to look over at Harry. Harry didn’t need to see them. He could feel their eyes, the curiosity, and the weight.  _ Fuck. _

“Will you tell them or shall I?” Micah hummed, reaching a hand back to pet Harry.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Marcus?” Harry asked, trying to stall the discussion ahead of them.

“Why would Marcus be needed for this?” Edward asked, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward. “What’s going on Alpha?”

“You know if he’s still around we can make use of him.” Micah mused. 

“Micah! I’m not involving a client in this mess.” Harry sat up in shock. 

“Didn’t you say he is a contract killer?”

“What’s this?” Edward asked flatly. “Start from the beginning.”

“Oui. Why is a contract killer a client of yours?” 

“Not just a client.” Micah grinned and wagged his eyebrows. Harry buried his face into a pillow in mortification. 

“You’re getting too much enjoyment out of this.” It was Edward’s empty stare that had him most nervous. He couldn’t get himself to look at the man at all. Merlin, he would spontaneously combust if he did. “My ardeur rose, and I fucked a client.”

Micah burst out laughing, and Harry pelted the pillow at him. 

“And why were you alone?” asked Edward. 

“It was only an hour. I was home alone all afternoon, and I was fine! Just fine!” Harry squawked. “I was as cool as bloody cucumber.” 

“And he just had to start flirting with an assassin,” Micah added, causing Harry to growl at him in a very wolf like way. 

“That’s not it at all!” 

“Oh? You did not unconsciously flirt with him?” 

Harry fumbled at this. “I didn’t know I did that! I had only an hour, and it was still daylight, and it was one client. Just one. I didn’t know.” 

“Little Raven,” Edward’s voice had a command to it that Marcus could only dream of having. It wasn’t high, it wasn’t low. It was a simple command that had a power behind it that went unseen. 

Harry buried his burning face into his hands, and he could feel Jean-Claude swooping down behind him. “Just tell us, mon Amour so that we can help you. It is no fault of your own. Please, we must know what has happened before your Chaton has more entertainment at your expense.” 

Micah cackled at him. “How about I start-?” And before he could, Harry flung a wandless silencing spell at his Nimir-Raj. It didn’t stop Micah’s grin even as he spoke with no voice coming out. 

“Hush you. Anyway, he was a contract killer. I sussed him out pretty quickly. But he wasn’t there to kill me or any of that.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Edward asked coolly. 

“There are a hundred more ways to kill me than pay that kind of fee!” Harry squawked. “Bert charged him at least five grand for a single consult. Any assassin worth their salt would have taken another avenue. Any avenue, and he knew you, Edward.” 

“Who?” 

“Leo Harlan?” 

“Harlan Knox,” said Edward flatly. 

“He wanted an ancestor raised, at least two hundred years. Once I discovered what he was, he was rather forthcoming. Told me he knew St. Louis was your territory and would never encroach on your city without at least contacting you first.” 

Micah was now bouncing on the bed as if he wanted to say something. Harry let him keep bouncing. He was quite pretty that way, and Rafael couldn’t help but smirk. 

Edward looked at Micah who was grinning, and then he looked back at Harry. “I want to see the memory. Now.” 

Harry should have known, and now his face was so red that it very well could catch fire. Rafael was chuckling. “I don’t think I should be here for this, unless you wish for me to stay as a moral support, Harry.” 

Harry could only whine as Jean-Claude leaned over to the bedside table to pull out a familiar stone basin covered in silver and gold runes. They had used it a few times for memories, a lot of fun memories at that. Harry wasn’t sure if this qualified as a fun memory. 

“I’m not watching,” said Harry miserably bringing his wand out, and pulling a strand of silver from his temple. He tossed it into the basin, and was not surprised when Edward was the first to touch the edge. Jean-Claude and Micah mimicked him, and Harry knew they had disappeared. 

Rafael grinned. “You really okay?” he asked when the three men were occupied. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to!” 

“You should not have gone out alone. Edward’s not going to be pleased with that.” 

“It was an hour. I was fine and doing so well without it rising, but as soon as I made the link that he was a lot like Edward…” 

“Your attraction led to the door opening, and your lust pulled you through.” 

“More like kicked me in the arse.” Harry resumed the burying of his face into a pillow. “He even went so far as to ask if Edward would mind while we were just flirting.”

“So you were flirting?” 

“I didn’t know I was. I guess I was just too comfortable. It was too easy. Felt so natural to just be me. I was uncomfortable with him until he told me what he actually was, and then I was fine with it. Completely wrong reaction right?”

“For most,” said Rafael. He looked over at Edward. His face hadn’t changed, but his eyes were a bit brighter. “But, I suppose it’s normal for you. You’re a natural with all types, Harry.” 

Harry shook his head. “My worst fears came to life.” 

“Not really,” said Rafael. “I mean, you did choose someone who was unattached. You chose someone who was likely very willing if your ardeur rose after the flirtation. You do have rather remarkable instincts. You seem to know who is trustworthy and who is not. Marcus is still trying to figure out how you knew what Cassandra was before any of them.” 

Cassandra had been part of a Triumvirate set out to steal Harry and his men’s powers. She’d infiltrated their wolf clan, and it might have succeeded if it hadn’t been for Harry’s instincts and Edward. No one had ever heard of a Tetrumvirate. No one knew that there was a fourth involved. So that left Edward free to protect them. It all culminated in a lot of deaths, and nowadays whenever Harry had an odd feeling about someone, it was always looked into. 

Devil on shoulders, sometimes they were a powerful force. “Just a feeling I had.” 

Harry knew the instant the guys finished the memory. Not from some mental or magical clue from their tetrumvirate. No, no need to use their connection. Edward’s sudden dart forward to grab at Harry and pin him to the bed was clue enough. Without hesitation, Edward used one hand to hold Harry down by his neck as he smashed their lips together. Harry willing submitted to his personal Death. Opening his mouth to Edward’s assault; moaning as the sociopath’s tongue forced its way in.

“Hot Little Raven, but Harlan owes me for that. I will use him to get rid of the child vampires.” Edward stated as he pulled back from Harry. “Good idea Alpha.” Harry wasn’t given much time to catch his breath since Edward continued to apply pressure on his neck as Jean took his own turn in kissing Harry. 

“You can stay and join in Rafael, or vacate. Either way we’re going to show Baby who he really belongs to.” Micah stated as he started to remove his clothes. Harry could hear the alpha rumble in his Nimir-Raj’s voice.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Rafael shared a grin with Micah and left the room. He made sure to engage the room’s security defences as he closed the door. The same defences that protected Teddy from Padma and his son would protect the four most important members of the Community tonight. 

“It is a good thing that I must feed tonight, and perhaps I shall feed upon your lust, mon Amour. I do believe mon Tueur d’Ombre, some fault lies within you. No other way would he have drawn out an attraction without the obvious similarities.” 

“Maybe,” said Edward smirking. “Little Raven is entirely too comfortable around the dark side. But I think since you started this entire thing, Toy. You should start it again.” He rolled off Harry, and Micah pushed Jean-Claude who slithered gracefully on top of Harry without the need for anymore words. 

Harry moaned when he fell into Jean-Claude’s kiss. Edward and Micah were on each side of him, and they made no moves to touch each other as Jean-Claude drank from him. 

“A reminder of exactly who and what you belong to,” Jean-Claude purred as he rose Harry enough for slick well oiled fingers to glide down and tease him. 

Harry was unable to form a word and every time he tried, it was kissed away as fingers repeatedly lathered him. He’d somewhat snapped back from earlier that night. Jean-Claude’s attention was all on him as he explored every part of Harry. His neck was bit, and a gentle line of blood was drawn, and it swelled Jean-Claude to full length beneath Harry. His heart beat faster, his blood pressure swooshed, and all the while his men watched, never taking their gazes off them. Just watched, and it burned a fire in Harry who could only react back. 

Jean-Claude licked along Harry’s nipples, swooping down hungrily down the expanse of his belly, and then burying himself into Harry’s crotch making him moan as he tightened and swelled beneath Jean-Claude’s experienced tongue. 

It did not matter how many times he had his men, whether it was together or individually. All of them had their own flavor, their own way of doing things, and each one of those ways had a habit of sending Harry to an edge. He was already teetering by the time Jean-Claude climbed up his body, and as smooth as velvet, he sank into Harry. Not a pierce, not a sharp jut. But he sank all of him inside, and he fit like a glove. His motions were smooth, velvet, and solid. 

Only the hand on his knee from Micah or the stroke of Edward could remind him that they were there. He was so infused with midnight eyes. It was Jean-Claude’s sex that had introduced him, and maybe that was why he felt it so strong. He didn’t have the ardeur, but he felt the need, this drive to have them inside. To feel. 

Harry was lost in every motion of Jean-Claude’s hips, his fingers swept into soft black curls, and their mouths never parted. He moved into Harry like a wave, and he could only ride the current until he felt as though he were floating. His first orgasm singing through him without resistance. Every nerve was tingled and teased, the room had been swallowed whole except for Jean-Claude. It was all he saw, it was all he tasted and touched as his body reacted to Jean-Claude. He arched up into him, begging for more, begging for the rhythm not to break. Smooth and sensual, soft and gentle. Jean-Claude filled him so completely leaving him only lightly shaken, and it was like he could taste Jean-Claude in the back of his mouth and throat with every spill inside of him. 

Harry protested, his nerves wired and his body hungry when Jean-Claude lovingly kissed him, and then like a current of air he was off, and a cool spill of air washed through the room that began to swim into focus. He felt drunk and sedated, and hardly aware of his surroundings until ice blue eyes lanced down upon him, and like a great cat Harry’s body transformed. 

No more bonelessness as Edward bared down on him, slamming inside, and sending Jean-Claude’s slow vibrations deeper. Harry reached out and seized Edward’s short blond hair and they kissed hard and sharp, tongues probing at each other as the slamming made the headboard rock against the stone wall.

Feeling all of Edward was always his thing, his slick sweat soaked chest slammed in time with his hips. He had hold of Harry’s hip, refusing to let him move or writhe in time. No, Edward was the one who controlled the pace. He controlled the flow, and Harry could only follow, sucking Edward in as the air tingled and pulsed with flickers of rising heat. 

It was not Harry’s ardeur. He did not need it to get off. He did not need it to enjoy his men. He could ride them all day. He clawed the back of Edward’s neck, gripping it so tight as he bit down on the man’s neck. He sucked at the salt and skin, pulling between his teeth and climbing to his ears that were most sensitive. His body rushed once more as orgasms pulled him under, and Edward always took advantage of his loss of control to make it stronger. To slam forward, place a bit of pain in there that had Harry gritting his teeth and hissing. It was a pain that he never knew could actually feel good. But it was there, it was in him, and Edward coated him, his essence joining Jean-Claude inside of him. 

No cool air this time, he was burning. His whole body felt as if it had been raked over coals, and he was still shaking and thrashing when Edward pushed him back by his throat and gave him one of those rare tender kisses. Harry’s kissing was sloppy, and he could feel that it pleased Edward. It had always pleased Edward to see Harry this way, and his body was gone from Harry, leaving him heaving. 

“Did you leave enough for me?” 

“It’s only just started, Alpha,” Edward drawled, his throat thick, and Harry saw beneath the soft lightning that Jean-Claude had crawled over Edward’s slick naked body. A tongue flickering out to taste the salt. His curls puddling around and almost hiding Edward’s hip and half hard cock. 

Now that would have been a beautiful portrait, Harry thought as Edward pet Jean-Claude’s hair. His eyes empty, but also full of fire at the same time. 

But Micah was turning him now, hand on his neck and chartreuse eyes dived inside of him, and the leopard inside Harry rose to greet his Nimir-Raj as their mouths met. Harry, not needing any prompting, swooped his slim legs eagerly around the beautiful muscles of Micah’s tanned torso. 

It wasn’t that he was the last in line, but more that he was a missing link that Harry needed. His great big cat, and Harry moved as Micah pushed every last inch in. Harry was one of few who could take all of him. He pushed back the barrier as Micah’s thick long cock nestled to the hilt, and the thrusts pulsed into his heart and throat. He sucked and swirled his tongue into Micah. Equal height and size, they did not have to bend or rise up. They met equally, and their bodies moved. 

Faster and faster, Harry was filled. His moans lost, and it felt like Harry had split into two. Whatever was in him rose up to meet Micah, and it was like their beasts and their humans were riding each other. Harry rode all of their pleasure over and over. Micah was smooth and yet filling. 

Micah and Harry came screaming, their nails digging into each other as their beasts rubbed and rolled inside. Harry’s skin wanted to split apart. He pushed that power out and into his Nimir-Raj causing a sudden holler of pleasure followed by a hissing howl. Harry’s body held together, though Micah was a different story. Soft black fur began to appear on Micah’s shoulder blades, and began to race across his lovely tan and down his back. It didn’t matter if there was a clear coat of liquid, they were all sweaty. 

“Now that’s new. Did you have to do that after you came?” Edward drawled causing Harry to choke, Jean-Claude to laugh, and Micah to growl as his body stilled on top of Harry’s. 

“Harry called me out,” Micah hissed with shaky arms as he used his hands to brace himself above Harry’s head. “Your beast called mine, and it answered.” 

“Interesting,” said Jean-Claude. “How lovely,” he said with a smile of satisfaction. He was reclining against Edward, happy and sedated. 

“Oops?” Harry tried. 

“His ardeur did not rise?” 

“It was already satiated,” said Jean-Claude. “By that delicious little assassin.” He propped himself up on Edward who glared at him. “Was it not enjoyable?” 

“Irrelevant.” 

“I’m sorry about that,” Harry whined. Micah was still inside of him, and he still had the fur crawling across his body. His face was clear, but his body was full of black fur. Harry ran his fingers through him causing Micah to groan and lower his weight. He snuggled up against Harry, nuzzling into his hair and neck. “I really didn’t want that to happen.” 

“I wonder though, if that was why he was really in town,” said Edward. “It is not easy to tell. But I will get something out of this.” 

“Oui.” 

Harry pouted. “He’s my client. Please don’t kill him.” 

“Can’t promise anything, Little Raven. He owes me, and I bet he knows it.” 

“Guy didn’t act like you much from what little I saw. He stumbled down those stairs, and fell down the last flight,” Micah laughed. “I was coming up as he was coming down.” 

“You were so late! You should blame him!” 

“No, Little Raven. It’s on you, and later we will discuss you having someone with you at all times,” said Edward. “No arguments.” Harry pouted, but he knew that by now he had little choice. 

“Actually, I had an idea for that,” said Micah raising his head. “A perfect idea. So perfect that I don’t know why none of us thought of it. It would also keep Musette off everyone now that Asher is claimed by Draco.” 

“Oh? I am all ears.” 

“Jason.” 

Jean-Claude blinked at this, and Edward cocked his head to the side. “I like it,” he said instantly. Jason had impressed Edward during the full moons. He was still young, but he had such will to control himself and never hurt Teddy. 

“Jason?” Harry queried. 

“Yup.” Micah pulled back slightly and shifted so that Harry was between him and Edward. Jean-Claude was still draped over Edward like a blanket. “I’ll be your Pomme until this is all over with, and as I am Nimir-Raj she can’t have me. But I think Jason would be a good fit for Harry until we can find someone more appropriate. If you don’t mind sharing.” 

“Non. He can have whatever he wants of me,” said Jean-Claude. “Besides, Jason is Harry’s too after all. But, are you okay with this?” 

Harry thought about it. “Only if Jason wants to. I don’t want him coaxed or talked into it. I don’t want him following along because he thinks he has to.” 

“Non. My pomme adores you. He always wants you,” said Jean-Claude with a smile. “He often asks me if he can have you. I always tell him to take it to the others.” Harry squabbled at that. 

“You’re not protesting, are you?” asked Micah. 

“N-no. I like Jason… a lot. I mean, yeah. I don’t see Jason as a kid needing taking care of like I used to, and I am really thinking Damian is a relative of some sort. For some reason, even without proof I feel this is true.” 

“Why not the blondes?” asked Edward. 

“They need taken care of, and I’m afraid they’ll take things seriously with me. I don’t want it serious,” said Harry. “But, Jason… Jason is kind of like me where he knows the difference.” 

“Plus, you are his Lupa,” said Micah nuzzling Harry. 

“Marcus would agree. We don’t even need him here,” said Jean-Claude. “Oui, I like this idea. I like this alot. It would protect my pomme from being feasted on by that wretch of a Musette.” 

“I wouldn’t let her. I gave him my protection. My word that she wouldn’t so much as touch him,” said Harry sharply. “I will not have one of mine forced upon.” 

He was actually quite agreeable to this idea, and the only reason he never thought of it before was because he belonged to Jean-Claude. He didn’t want to take from him. “Are you sure about this? You need him.” 

“You are mien, mon Amour. And everything I have is yours. I would love to share my pomme with you. He is both of ours after all.” 

Harry could feel dawn about to press in around them. Even though they were hidden underground, the death magic was slowly disappearing from the air. Harry could feel it like the weight of Micah, and hadn’t realized his own exhaustion. 

“Are we going to be alright tonight?” 

“Count on it,” said Edward. “If nothing else, the magic will keep this room safe. You saw to that.”

Harry had a feeling that Edward wouldn’t be sleeping much, and he wouldn’t be going anywhere until dawn. He’d probably end up back at their house to actually sleep. Harry didn’t want to leave Jean-Claude and his body. “Jean should come home with us.” 

“Do not worry over me. I trust your defenses, and I will be more than fine until dark. I am strong enough to kill her should I need. I do not wish for it to come to that, but I must remain here. I cannot run tail.” 

“You mean run with your tail between your legs?” Micah snickered. 

“Oui.” 

“Why not? I do it all the time,” he said cheesily causing Jean-Claude to chuckle. Edward was unimpressed. 

Harry laughed. “Horrible joke, Micah!” 

“I thought it was good,” he defended as the fur began to slowly recede. 

“Well, least I’m not the only one who gets things backwards at times. It’s good to have a beautiful French man around to help with my shortcomings,” Harry sing-songed making Jean-Claude laugh some more. “Are Ellie and Andy safe?” He then asked. 

“Oui. I have sent them off. We do not need anyone to find out that they may very well be from Morte D’Amour’s bloodline.” 

Ellie and Andy were two vampires they’d rescued from Branson. Ellie had been seventeen, and Andy had been a stupid boy who thought to bring his girlfriend over, and they’d caused a lot of trouble. A regular Romeo and Juliet, but with vampires. Both of them had the ability to rot, which no one liked them for, but Ellie hated it even more. However, they were useful. If trained right they would be terrifying to those entering Jean-Claude’s territory. Most do not like rotting vampires after all, and he had blood oathed them. They were still human enough that they were staunchly loyal. Especially after they protected Ellie’s brother and saved him from an insane pedophile. 

Harry fell asleep rather quickly. He often tended to when he was in the presence of his men. He was safe and warm, and very satisfied. As always, Micah’s cock stayed nestled deep inside him; his own personal cock plug to keep all of his lovers’ cum in his ass. He was only aware of soft whispering, and then being tucked beneath the soft sheets. 

“Why blue?” Micah asked. 

“Mon Tueur d’Ombre’s eyes are one of my favorites.” 

“Well aren’t I special,” Edward snarked. 

“Oui, very special. So special that you invoke such intense attraction.”

“I think you’ve had too much blood, Toy.” 

“Non. Just enough.” 


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a long one!

#  Chapter Six

He awoke with his skin buzzing, and the smothering heat that blanketed over him. He shivered at the smooth skin that rubbed up against him. Harry thought he’d heard a ringing noise, and a familiar voice very close. 

“He’s asleep.” 

“...” 

“Me? Just his flavor of the day. You know how it is, so who is this? Shall I give him a message?” There was a loud noise on the other end of the line making Harry’s eyes flicker open. “Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll let him know. If I can wake him. Sometimes it’s hard you know, very hard to wake him. He sleeps like the dead at times, especially after long active nights.” More noises that were incoherent brought out laughter and then a click. “Grumpy fellow.” 

Harry let out a shuddering gasp when arms swooped around him, and a nose ran down his chin to his neck. “Lupa, you should wake up before I start getting horny.” 

Harry’s eyes snapped open, and blond hair was the first thing he noticed, and he realized it was Jason who ran his tongue across Harry’s chin, and then raised his eyes to meet Harry’s. 

“Sorry, but you give off a lot of heat in your sleep. You’re like a radiator.” His palm coasted down Harry’s chest to his flat belly. He palmed it making the heat rush through his veins, but the sparking in his brain was slow going. 

“Jason?” He was very confused. He tried to raise his head, and noticed the younger man was naked, and hugging up against him. He too was naked, but he knew why he was naked. But… “Why are you naked?” 

“You are, and so I am,” Jason grinned shamelessly. “My turn to help my Lupa.” He nuzzled at Harry with his nose, and he nipped at his ear causing him to shiver. “Shit, you’re sensitive. Sucks that I could hardly ever remember the two times I got lucky.” 

Harry’s face burned. “Are you okay with this?” 

“Okay? I’m excited!” Jason pulled back with his eyes shining. “I expected Micah to tell me he was joking until Edward quite literally hefted me up over his shoulder and then placed me in bed with you. Not that I mind. Who knew a human could be so strong? What can he press?” 

“Who knows with him,” Harry couldn’t help but enjoy the mental image of Edward manhandling Jason. 

“He said and I quote.  _ ‘You do the Little Raven nicely. If he does anymore assassins, I won’t be happy,’ _ ” Jason did his best to imitate Edward only to fall very short with the infection of emotion making Harry giggle and bring his hand up to wipe his face of sleep. “Don’t tell Jean-Claude this, but I’m more scared of him than Jean-Claude. But that he trusts me enough with your body, that makes a man pretty fucking proud!” 

Harry laughed some more. “Sounds about right. No one ever accused you of being stupid, have they?” 

“Only a few times,” said Jason grinning. “So, I get to be your pomme? This is great!” 

“Is this what you want? I don’t want you bullied into it,” said Harry trying to roll out of Jason’s arms only for the wolf to tighten his hold. 

“You’re ridiculous, Lupa. I’ve wanted you since I met you!” 

“Why? You like women.” 

“But, you're my Lupa. I desire my Lupa. You smell like my Lupa, like pack. I want to taste you.” Jason groaned and he rolled on top of Harry. 

“But I wasn’t your Lupa when we met.” 

“No, but you smelled… you smelled like…” Jason tilted his head, his pretty eyes going hazy as he tried to put a word to it. “ _ Right _ . Besides, I’m more fluid these days, and sure I do love the ladies. But, Lupa do you not know how delicious you smell and feel?” He rolled his hips, and Harry’s eyes widened when he realized that Jason was already rock hard. His own hormones were stirring now, and that heat in his stomach had his face flushing, and his eyes fluttering. “Jesus, look at your face. Fuck,” Jason groaned, and it was like he didn’t have the control to finish what he was trying to say as he covered Harry’s mouth with his own. Harry sucked him, winding his fingers into Jason’s hair and instinctively his own beast began to stir and rise. It was as though it had laid dormant inside of him. It was waiting, and Jason let out a whine when it reached out, and Harry willingly opened his legs as the ardeur roared to life, and the two swam beneath it’s thick hot waves. 

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t easy, and Harry was biting and sucking against Jason’s skin with every hungry thrust between the silk blue sheets. He pulled and drew out the lust, and twirled the desires as his beast overpowered Jason until the younger man was on his back and Harry was on top bearing down on him. He gripped and clawed, tasted the safety Jason felt from him, the desire to be inside of Harry. He was just attracted like a man was attracted to a man or a woman. He just flatout wanted to fuck Harry for no other reason than because he was wildly attracted. No hidden motives. No otherworldly reasoning. He just wanted a good time. He wanted pleasure, and so Harry let him. Dipping down and devouring him. His fingers scratching down Jason’s muscled chest. 

“Fuck… Fuck! Yes… please, more Lupa…” Jason cried out as Harry rode on top of his cock, and sucked at his chest. He pushed his power into Jason making that wolf inside stir and croon. Jason’s orgasms poured into Harry, and he still couldn’t stop. He swelled even more, his blood rushing like lava. 

Harry didn’t stop, he rode so hard and fast, pumping up and down on Jason as soft growls tore through him, and his beast overpowered the both of them, consumed them until they were blinded, and only when they collapsed in gulping hot heaps from multiple releases did the world come back into focus. Jason’s hands were submerged in Harry’s soaked hair, and Harry was licking at the small bits of blood on his neck making the younger man groan. Jason was shaking and convulsing slightly. His eyes wild and rolling a bit. 

“Sorry?” Harry choked as the ardeur simmered back down and coiled in a lazy sort of position beneath his stomach. “Did I hurt you?” Jason started laughing, and then he choked. “Jason?” Harry raised up, and gasped at the damage he’d done. A deep pinkish nail marks from the chest down to his stomach, and his neck was an even bigger hickey and bruise than Rafael’s had ever been. It glowed beneath the candle light of the room. A coat of sweat had leaked off them into the bed. “Are you okay? I am so sorry.” 

“Fuck, Lupa, don’t apologize for giving me the ride of my fucking life!” Jason croaked out with a giggle. “Everyone should feel you.” 

Harry flushed. “Not funny,” he whined with a shake of his head. 

“I-it is a little. N-no wonder Marcus is such a different person now,” Jason grinned. “Is this what you give him?” 

“I think? I guess? Why am I so different? I didn’t mean to slice you.” Harry bent down and licked Jason’s neck on instinct and he saw the wound close, but it was still there. 

Jason’s eyes fluttered. “You’re our Lupa. Our real Lupa. She was just a fake this whole time. She was not what the munin wanted. She was the Jezebel of Lupa.” 

“Jezabel?” 

“Sorry, biblical reference,” Jason said sheepishly. “She was a whore in the biblical sense of the word. She spread plague and lies, and let out a toxic poison until everything was consumed in her grasp. She was never Lupa.” Harry didn’t quite understand what Jason was saying, and why he was so suddenly passionate about it. “It was you from the moment I met you. I should have sensed it. Sensed you’d be our Lupa.” 

“How? I didn’t even know Marcus or like him much when we first met.” 

“No, but you came for me as if I was yours.” 

“You were. At the time I didn’t really care about your pack. I just cared about you and Stephen, and all those who were our friends. All those who I felt were family.” 

“That’s it. You saw us as family. As pack. You’ve had that wolf in you this whole time, and yet you can’t shift. I don’t understand that.” 

“I don’t understand me half the time, Jason,” Harry moaned with a flop. “I really don’t.” 

Jason had always been that kind of person who was so easy to be around, and so easy to talk to. He was like Rafael in a sense, but also at the same time different. He loved all his men with everything inside of him, but sometimes… Harry admitted to sometimes wishing he had someone to talk about things with. Someone to help him make sense of the chaos without spreading it around to all his men and getting them involved. Normally, he didn’t mind that. But sometimes, he wanted to just rant or say something without it spreading like a wildfire to all the well meaning men. 

Edward was one of his big ones. He tried so damn hard, and even went out of his element on purpose if only to do what he thought was right by Harry. He took Harry’s protection and safety seriously. He took Harry’s happiness very seriously. It was those things that sociopaths cling to the most. Things they can see rather than feel. Though he did love Harry, and very much so to the point he actually felt it, he still saw more than felt. 

Rafael did a great job helping him, but he also acted like - well - a leader. He was a leader. All of his men were leaders. Jason was not a leader. 

“You give us in the pack a sense of normal that we’ve never been afforded. We’ve never been allowed to have. You make us feel alright with our beasts, and like we’re not monsters. Most packs have never felt or had that. It’s no wonder Richard might have hated you. He hated his beast and monster, and he would hate for anyone to treat us as normal. It makes so much fucking sense. I’ve only been in it a short time, but I know stories. I know the feel, the twisted energies of my pack and of my Ulfric when we were beneath Raina. It is no longer twisted. It is no longer poisoned.”

“Of that I am glad, even though I understand only half of what you’re saying,” said Harry. “But, I knew people like her. Maybe not in the sexual sense, but someone like her killed the last of my family when I was fifteen. I knew what she was when I met her.” 

“Last night, you took the entire room by storm. You and Draco! I never thought Draco would have it in him.” 

“You’d be surprised. Draco is a wizard of many shades. I don’t think I told you this, but when we first met, I hated him. I hated him until I was seventeen years old. I mean it was a literal hatred.” 

“I never would have guessed. You were so intune with him last night.” 

“Wars change people. You heard his parents, right?” 

Jason nodded. “I didn’t understand it then, but I think I saw his father come out last night.” 

“By the way, who called?” 

Jason grinned. “Your Lieutenant and Zerbrowski.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. “What?! Dolph?” 

“A Lieutenant Storr, I was told to give you a message to call them asap. Oops,” Jason flushed. “Sorry… I forgot.” Harry huffed, and summoned the phone as he sat up. He was still straddled around Jason who was grinning, and ran a hand up and down Harry’s chest. “You are very pretty.” 

“Shut up!” Harry whacked him with the end of the phone. 

“Nope! For a man you really are pretty. You should try out Guilty Pleasures with me some night!” 

Harry could only groan at the idea and shake his head repeatedly. “N-no!” 

“How can you give some of the best orgasms and sex, and still be so blushing? You sleep with four power houses!” 

Harry glowered at Jason, he was getting even more red now. “Hush!” 

“Yes, Lupa,” Jason never stopped grinning, and maybe that’s what Harry liked most. His grins and smiles were always natural, always playful, and they never meant more than a good time. Sometimes, a simple smile can go a very long way. 

Oh, Dolph had not been happy. Jason brought his shoulders up like an innocent boy as Dolph yelled at him on the other end of the line. It seemed a second crime happened between the time he called the first time and their sexcapade. He was to get to the first one as fast as possible. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d be such an ass…” 

“If it had been Zerbrowski, it’d have been fine,” said Harry when he hung up. “Dolph’s a lost cause. I’ve tried over the years. I’ve tried to teach and appeal to him, but because he thinks blood is everything and there is only one way to get a grandchild - well - it’s not my bloody fault.” He tossed the phone aside. “Doesn’t see adoption or any other path before him. He’s typically narrow-minded these days. That’s fine with me.” 

He made to rise off Jason causing the man to groan at the slick flop his cock did. “Man, that was nice having you warm my cock. Never did that before.” 

Harry flushed. “I’m used to it.” 

“Let me guess, Micah? He’s just the cock warming type,” Jason followed him out of the bed. Harry had fluids trailing down the back of his leg. He really needed a shower. But it would have to be super quick. 

“You guessed it.” 

Harry made quick work of a three minute shower, Jason had jumped in to join, and seemed to enjoy running the sudsy soap down the back of Harry’s body. He was always so frisky, but also playful. Harry kind of liked that. It was refreshing. 

“Where are my guys anyway?” 

“Edward went back to your house to sleep. Micah took Teddy out for the day. Bobby Lee and Shang-Da are going to be following behind everywhere we go. They are just outside.” 

“And Jean-Claude?” 

“Edward made him leave with Damian. No exceptions. It was hilarious seeing Jean-Claude’s reaction when Edward threatened to hoist him over his shoulder like he did me.” 

Harry pouted. “And I missed it? I always miss the fun stuff! Why does sleeping have to exist?” 

“Only reason you’re here is because he does trust the walls to protect us, Musette, that scary doll is down for the day, and because you need your sleep. But he does want you back home before dark. He just didn’t trust what anyone would do to Jean-Claude after everyone was gone. I wouldn’t be here, Damian wouldn’t be here, he doesn’t know or trust or like Faust and Meng Die, and so no one else in his opinion would be here. He didn’t like that. So he made him leave too.” 

“Good, I didn’t want him here alone either.” 

Jason brought him clothes that Jean-Claude had no doubt laid out for him. “Is this appropriate for a crime scene?” Harry queried. 

“It’s not leather,” Jason was completely naked, and didn’t seem to mind at all. 

But, then so was Harry who only had a towel clutched to his front. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide. What was left to hide? He was also a guy, but he was a bit chilly. Jason was a full blooded werewolf, and Harry only got hot during sex or as Jason seemed to put it, when he was asleep. He hadn’t known that little tidbit that he grew hotter in his sleep. He wondered if that was something new?

And now that he was thinking about it, Harry was downright frigid, and drew the towel closer to him on instinct as he picked through his daily wear. “Merlin, what’s the weather like outside?” 

“Normal. Cold, but…” Jason stopped and tilted his head. “Normal. Geez. You get cold easy. I guess sleeping and sex is where your heat comes from.” He grinned at this. 

“Y-yeah. Just need clothes,” said Harry, not caring that the trousers turned out to be a pair of hip-hugging black English riding crop trousers, and yes there was a thong included, which Jason enjoyed making note of. He shivered his way through his clothes. A long sleeved soft cashmere jumper in a deep brown and sienna shade that had a layered turtleneck that folded down. It reached his hips, barely touching the top of his arse, and even behind the warmth and softness of the clothes he was still a bit frigid. “Go get dressed.” 

“Yes, Lupa!” Jason beamed, and Harry rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. 

Gah, maybe they needed to see to the heating? Jean-Claude had a heating system installed, but it didn’t seem to be on. He rubbed at his arms, and tried to focus on dressing. He brushed his teeth, and adjusted the torc and cuffs, but there was no way he could get the torc in view, and so he left it alone as he attached his black belt. 

His boots that morning turned out to be knee-high brown lace ups with his usual two inch incline. He fumbled with the laces, grumbling at how the slip-on ones would just be so much easier or even the ones that zipped. What was the point of laces? His fingers were chilly, and having a hard time with motor functions. 

“Lupa? Jean-Claude laid out a coat for you. It smells like Ulfric and Micah.” 

Harry raised his head, and blinked when suddenly the room began to sway, and everything began to transform into double. “Whoa!” 

“Lupa?” Jason rushed over and gripped his forearm. “Are you alright?” 

“Erm… yeah. Just, suddenly blood loss to the head? Stupid laces,” Harry grumbled rubbing at the side of his head. 

“Lupa? You look a little paler than usual, have you eaten anything?” he tried. 

“Ate?” It sounded like a foreign word. “Erm. I don’t remember. Did you say a coat smelled like Marcus and Micah?” It took a minute for Jason to come back into focus as one person and not twins. He was still cold. 

“Erm, yeah.” Jason held it out. “Quite fancy if I do say so myself.” 

Harry stared at it. It would have to be at least ankle length. It was soft, not leather on the outside, but there was white and black fur that lined the cuffs and collar. He could feel the energy. It had large ivory looking buttons on the front. 

“Probably an early Christmas gift if I were guessing.” 

“Is this painful for them? To be using their fur like this?” Harry asked. 

“It grows back.” 

“That’s not what I asked,” said Harry petulantly. 

“They want to, they’re Alpha and pretty much Kings. They want you to smell like them. Geez, are you sure you’re okay? You really need to eat before you leave.” Jason was dressed in a handsome long-sleeved silk button down tucked in with a belt and all. It was a shade bluer than his eyes, and the jeans sat tight and nice, forming to all of his nicely toned dancer legs and thighs. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“I don’t want to be lynched because I didn’t take care of you.” 

Harry huffed. “I can take care of myself.” He took the coat, and slipped it on. It helped a bit as he hugged it to him. He could smell Micah and Marcus along the collar and sleeves. Micah always smelled of the earth, green grass and warm. Marcus on the other hand had a very clean, subtle scent. It was light and airy, and reminded Harry of a spring meadow. They complimented each other well. It was nice and comfortable. It sat well on him. He could probably sleep in it, it smelled so good. “We have to get to the crime scene before I get my arse kicked.” 

“Can I drive?” Harry tossed him the keys, and Jason hooted. “I’ll take you to get something on the way.” 

“After.” 

He swore he did not stumble his way out of the room. Jason took all the secret passages through the magically changed walls to the main common area that was still and silent. No one was down there, and neither Harry nor Jason looked to the left where the doors leading to the guest corridors would be. 

Harry took in a breath, and realized just how tired he was when he saw the stone steps that would lead them back up to the world. He stopped before the first step, and just stared. 

“Lupa?” Jason stopped about eight steps up and turned. 

“Hm.” For some reason, Harry felt as if he’d had a go against the Slytherin’s Quidditch Team with Marcus Flint at the helm. It was as though all the wind had been knocked out of him. 

Bobby Lee and Shang-Da would be waiting for them at the top of the stairs. They wouldn’t be going in Harry’s car, but they would follow along. He didn’t want to show them any weakness, not at all. One iota of weakness would have them calling one of his many men. 

Yeah, no. Jason at least let him get himself together on his own terms. He tried to figure out first what was wrong before drawing conclusions that he needed a horde of men swarming him. Good intentions, bad execution. 

“Good morning, Little Hellcat!” Bobby Lee’s booming voice the moment Harry reached the top of the stairs had Harry half smiling, while trying not to huff and puff. He was standing at the door with Shang-Da at his side. 

“Morning, Bobby. Shang-Da. I have a crime scene to go to.” 

“Jason let us know.” 

“All yours today!” 

Bobby Lee was one of Rafael’s best, and when Rafael couldn’t be somewhere and protection was needed, Bobby Lee was the go-to. He was always such a big presence that Harry never blinked or batted an eyelash. He’d called Harry Little Hellcat since the moment they became friends, which seemed to be after the Nikolaos debacle, either that or sometime after Rafael and the rats became in and out fixtures of Harry’s house. He was just always there. Always in the background, laughing, and doing something. 

Edward got along with him well. He shouldn’t be surprised, he supposed the Ted persona was quite close to Bobby’s personality. But, then again Edward could get along with just about anyone if he wanted to. He was a consummate actor. 

Shang-Da bowed his head when Harry touched his upper arm. Harry always made it a point to touch any of his wolves when they were in the vicinity. Even if it was just casual. Harry had learned it meant a lot to them. A signal that he was there, listening and waiting patiently, and offering himself to them. The moment the door opened a blast of freezing cold air very nearly had him yelping and leaping backwards. Merlin, he was cold, and why was he so tired? Normally after feeding the ardeur, and if it was a normal feed and not out of control, he was full of energy because you know it was energy. He’d been good about trying to feed it at least twice a day. 

“It ain’t that cold yet.” 

“I know. Just cold today,” said Harry. 

“I can warm you back up, you know,” said Jason grinning. 

“I think you need to cool off,” Harry huffed. 

“He’s just excited because he got picked,” laughed Bobby Lee. “Your kitty cats might get a little huffy about it though.” 

“It is natural that Lupa would gravitate toward one of ours,” said Shang-Da. 

Harry tried not to turn into a tomato with the way they talked about his sexual issues so bloody openly. He shouldn’t be surprised, his men had been going down the line, squabbling back and forth, and trying to present him with pommes. 

“Don’t forget that I was Nimir-Ra first. However, my cats are my kids,” said Harry in defense as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and hunkered his nose down into the fur. “Only in extreme situations and when it is needed. Not for me, but for them, but they don’t need that. I’ve finally gotten them all to a point where they can think for themselves.” 

“Not to mention most of them might end up taking it seriously,” said Bobby Lee. 

“Exactly.” 

Jason pouted. “You’re saying I’m not serious?” 

“No.” Everyone said simultaneously. 

Jason grinned. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

Harry nudged him before heading around to the passenger’s side. Bobby Lee and Shang-Da climbed into a nondescript silver F150. One of the most common vehicles in midwest America. Jason blasted the heat for him, but for some reason it did very little. He was about to resort to warming charms if his temperature didn’t settle by the time they got to the scene. 

He didn’t bother with a seat-belt as he handed off the directions, and found himself staring hollowly at the dashboard. His muscles felt heavy, and he burrowed himself further into his new coat, and brought his knees to his chest. Not caring if the boots scratched the leather or made a hole in it. 

“Lupa? You should really eat. Let me stop and get you something.” 

“M’okay. Not hungry.” The mere thought of food right now made him stomach flip-flop. “I’ll be fine. Always been sensitive to the cold.” 

The crime scene was in Wildwood. A lot of rich homes spread out and very far apart. Most of it was in the middle of nowhere. Harry could relate. He liked where his house sat. Only an old graveyard across the street, and the rest was woods for miles. Harry had bought up all the land for a good eight miles so that no one else could claim it, and start building on it. 

Harry’s eyes began to blur amongst the spindly trees with speckles of fresh covered snow. It wasn’t a real big snow. Just a few tufts of flurries every so often. It wouldn’t really start coming down until late December and January. Last year, Harry’s house was home to over fifty snowmen. Everyone had come out for the occasion, including Jean-Claude once night had fallen. 

It was a twisty set of roads, and Harry tried not to let out a moan at how his stomach continued to roll. Jason would glance at him every so often with a bit of worry on his face. 

“I don’t like the way you’re looking, Lupa. Do I need to pull over?” 

“No. I don’t know what’s going on with me. Maybe I’ve got a bug? It’s been years since I’ve actually been sick.” In fact, the last time he’d been sick was when he first made the move. Harry blamed it on the shock of the area, the change in time and even the subtle transformation in weather. “When I first moved here I was sick. Really sick, but that was the last time. It was more culture shock and weather changes and all that.” He shrugged weakly. 

He began to slow as they took a few curves along the road, and slowed even further trying to see the address on the cluster of mailboxes passing by. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t miss the crime scene. It’s on the main road.” 

“How can you be sure?” 

“You know how in TV shows a crime scene has way too many people around it?” He nodded at this. “That is actually one of the truer things about crime scenes that they get down pat. You won’t miss it. It looks like a party.”

They came upon it, and Jason laughed. “I see what you mean.” 

It took all of Harry’s energy to drop his legs to the floor, and rise up to see. Police cars, marked and unmarked were everywhere. Two emergency vehicles were parked on the edge of the road, which blocked a lot of traffic. 

Jason pulled the Escalade over, driving into the grass just as a uniformed officer started walking towards them. Harry sighed, and reached into his pocket to remove his official non-magical badge. All vampire executioners and bounty hunters in the United States had been grandfathered into the federal status, if they could qualify on a shooting range. Harry had of course qualified, Edward would never forgive him if he didn’t, and so he was now a Fed. So was Edward, and many others out there. 

There was still a lot of fighting about it in Washington DC about whether they’d be able to pay anything more than the pittance that each state pays per kill, but Harry didn’t think it was necessary. Harry didn’t really need the badge. He could just flash the MACUSA one, but only the higher ups knew what MACUSA even stood for, and it made crossing state lines and nudging in on crime scenes a whole lot easier for him. Harry and Edward could stick their noses wherever they wanted so long as it was preternatural related. The magical world tended to keep their distance from no-maj crimes even if it was vampire or lycanthrope unless something came to their attention like covens and no-maj witches who broke the laws. 

He used what limited amount of energy he had to get out before the uniform got to them, and cross around the vehicle with his badge being flashed. He frowned at Harry, taking a good look at him. He was dressed nicely, so that helped. But his young looks tended to spark confusion, and it was made even worse now that he had a nifty badge to play with. Yeah, he was not looking forward to being forty years old. At least Jean-Claude was forever thirty something, Harry was forever seventeen. 

Harry read his name tag. “Officer Jenkins, I’m Harry Potter-Black. Lieutenant Storr is expecting me.” 

“Storr isn’t here,” he said, arms crossed over his chest. “Just how old are you?” 

Harry always got that question. It took a lot out of Harry not to reach out to hold onto the front of the Escalade. Jason had obviously seen it and got out on his side of the car. Harry knew he was pale, knew he was showing a bit of fatigue. But he kept it as reeled in as he could. 

“Old enough to be a Fed.” 

“We didn’t call the Feds in.” 

“Officer Jenkins, it doesn’t matter how young I look. I am still a Federal Marshal, do you know what that means?” he asked as though he were talking to a child. 

“Nope.” 

“It means I don’t need your permission to enter this crime scene. I don’t need anyone’s permission. So it doesn’t matter if the Lieutenant is here or not. I told you who alerted me to this crime out of courtesy, but if you don’t want to be courteous, officer, then we don’t have to be.” He was too damn tired to charm the man. 

Normally, Harry would keep Jason in the car, but he knew he wasn’t one hundred percent. Shang-Da and Bobby Lee had likely parked somewhere hidden amongst the other cars. Somewhere they could get out and in, in a hurry, and yet not draw attention. “Let’s get going.” 

“He’s not a Fed.” 

“Doesn’t matter. He’s with me, and he’s my escort. I’m going in whether you want me too or not because I have that right, and I won’t have Dolph on my arse.” He made sure to fling a light charm to distract the officer as Jason took hold of him before he could stumble, and fall flat on his face. 

Merlin, he needed to go back to bed. 

Harry strung his badge around his neck on a cord that managed to get them past most cops. It helped that he was likely dressed in clothes that were more expensive than the average weekly salary, and the few who did question them recognized Harry’s name or had worked with him before. Always good to be known, but they did question Jason’s presence, and Harry getting tired of it had said he’d deputized him. 

Yeah, it was a stretch, but what else was Harry going to say? 

Before a big backwoods statie with wide-shoulders could toss out a sneer, a voice caused him to jolt. “Trooper Kennedy. Don’t you have some speeders to catch?” 

He must have been causing issues because it was Zerbrowski that was hurrying toward them. He was dressed in his usual-sloppy adorable puppy dog way. A brown suit, a yellow shirt with the collar on one side pointing up, and a tie at half mast, already stained with something. His wife Katie, was always neat as a pin. Harry and her shared that trait, and he was actually surprised she’d let him out of the house like that. 

“I’m on my own time here, detective. What are you doing bringing a kid to an investigation?” Merlin’s balls. Harry didn’t bother. 

“This is my crime scene, and you are going to show Harry Potter-Black some respect or I will write you up.” Wow, Zerbrowski wasn’t usually so rough, but it had the large man straightening suddenly. 

“This is the Equalizer?!” He looked at Harry. “He’s a kid.” 

“He’s twenty-six, Kennedy.” 

“We didn’t authorize him!” He stabbed a finger at Jason. 

“I did,” said Harry. “I’m a bit under the weather right now, so I need him. Unless you want to prop me up.” 

Kennedy cleared off, and Zerbrowski turned to Harry. “Under the weather?” He searched Harry over. “You are quite pale. Paler than usual, I figured you were with that vampire sweetheart of yours.” 

“Nope. He was with me,” said Jason boldly. 

Zerbrowski cocked his head. “You, huh? Nice to meet you. I think I might have seen you before, I can’t quite recall.” He scratched his messy head as if trying to figure out if he had or not. There were a lot of men in Harry’s life. 

“I’m here and there,” said Jason. “I’m his lackey today.” 

“You didn’t make Dolph very happy on the phone.” 

“Sorry about that.” 

Zerbrowski shook his head. He then called over one of the other detectives on the RPIT squad. “See if you can clear out some of the personnel we don’t need.” 

“You got it Sarge,” and the man went to talk with all the nice policemen from all the many jurisdictions. 

“Sarge?” Harry tilted his head. “I knew Dolph made Lieutenant finally. I didn’t hear your news!” He said wide-eyed. “Congratulations, Zeze!” 

Zerbrowski shrugged, and ran a hand through his already messy curls. “When they moved Dolph up, he needed a second whip, I got tapped.” 

“They throw you a party yet?” Harry asked with a smile, trying to keep the fatigue out of his face. 

He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. “Yeah.” 

Harry’s heart hurt that he hadn’t been invited. First Dolph, now Zerbrowski. He didn’t think Zerbrowski would think so lowly of him like Dolph did now. Geez. It really hurt. It took a lot of effort to keep his face blank; to channel Edward at this moment. “I’m glad. You deserve it.” He wasn’t about to say anything about it. He was too tired and felt too bad to bother making a big deal. 

“Uh, yeah, well you know how it is.” Zerbrowski shuffled from one foot to the other. 

“Of course.” Harry found the energy to flash a weak smile again. “At least they remembered to throw you a party too. Now tell me about what’s going on here.” Harry had to move things back into focus. _Deal with it later._ He said to himself as he pushed his feelings aside. _If they don’t want to include me, so be it._ _I don’t have to bloody put up with it._

Zerbrowski shrugged, looking contrite. “Katie gave me strict orders to invite you and everyone over for dinner the next time I saw you. So here it is, when can you come over?” 

_ At least Katie still likes me it seems. _ “I don’t know. Probably won’t be able to make it.”

“Have you changed guys?” Zerbrowski’s eyes flicked to Jason. Harry could tell he was trying to salvage the situation.

“Jason’s a close friend. Even if he was more we wouldn’t likely be able to. Do give Katie my thanks though.”

“The friend speech,” Jason clutched his heart dramatically, “it cuts so deep.”

“Oh.” Zerbrowski floundered.

“Crime scene?” Harry cut in before Zerbrowski could say anymore.

“I know you have the right to make him a deputy, Harry, but I know what Jason is and his primary residence.” Zerbrowski leaned closer so no one could overhear. “Dolph would kill me if I let him into the crime scene.” 

Once Harry would have asked Jason to stay outside and have Zerbrowski be his crutch in a time like this. Once he might have even backed down and sucked it up. But he was tired, sick, and fed up with his choices in partners being used against him. As if sleeping with the supernatural made him more of a freak than he was by being a wizard. It was hard not being jaded and cynical at times. It seemed everywhere he went, something got him ostracized. It was okay. None of them were worth those in his life. 

“Either Jason comes with me or we both walk away, Sergeant.” Harry clasped at Jason’s arm tighter as a wave of fatigue passed through him; missing Zerbrowski’s wince. 

“Are you sick? Dolph didn’t say anything.” Zerbrowski asked in concern.

“Like Dolph would care even if I was.” Harry muttered, barely loud enough for Zerbrowski to hear.

“If he had known you were like this, he wouldn’t have insisted on you coming out.”

“Pretty to think so.” Harry said as he felt blood draining from his face. He needed to sit down or he’d end up falling over.

“Lu- Harry,” Jason clutched Harry who was suddenly very interested in the ground. He was chilled to the bone, and was it him or was the ground getting closer? He blinked when he suddenly felt even shorter than he was, and realized he was leaning so heavily into Jason.

Zerbrowski’s eyes widened. “Harry? Come sit down.” He pulled Harry toward one of the half frozen chairs outside the house. “What happened to him?” 

“I don’t know. He was fine until he got out of the shower,” said Jason. 

“I’m fine. Tell me about the scene?” Harry needed to power through this. He could not show weakness now. 

“Not when you can barely stand, Harry.” 

“I’ll be fine.” Harry took in slow shallow breaths, and tried to find strength from somewhere around him. He rolled his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry but I’ll have to escort you into the scene. Sorry, Jason.” 

“Can I at least stay here?” asked Jason. “I don’t want to leave my Lu- Harry.”

No surprise Zerbrowski caught the slip, but he didn’t acknowledge that he caught it. “You can stay here, yes. I’ll make sure no one gives you any issue. Harry? Please?” 

Harry hated it when Zerbrowski acted so friendly. “Fine.” But, he would carry himself. Somehow, he found strength flowing through him. It was a cool and icy sort of strength, and it tasted like Edward on his tongue. He was up so suddenly that Jason and Zerbrowski flinched. 

“Let’s do this… it’s cold out here,” he turned and headed up to the small front porch. He was more steady than he was before. 

“Harry, I can tell Dolph how sick you are, and let the kid take you home.” 

“I’m fine now.” Harry turned and stared up at Zerbrowski who took a step back in surprise. “What?” 

Zerbrowski didn’t seem to be able to find words whatever he saw on Harry’s face. “...” 

“Show me the scene please.” 

Zerbrowski could only nod. “Right this way.” 

At first, Harry thought that the man was levitating against the wall. It looked like he was floating, but unless someone had magic cast around him, Harry knew that wasn’t true. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and his mind to pick up what the hell he was seeing. 

He saw dark lines where blood had dried on the body. It looked as if he’d been shot, a lot, and bled. But bullets wouldn’t have kept him pinned to the wall. 

Harry did not feel faint or nauseous as he poured as much focus as he could into staying upright, he stepped closer, and leaned forward as the boots dug into the soft carpet to steady him. He kept his hands in his pockets as he did. 

Harry had to be almost beneath the body before he found what was so bizarre. It looked like someone had taken a nail gun, one of those industrial sized nail guns that Rafael sometimes used in his work, and nailed him to the wall. His shoulders were about eight feet off the ground, so either they’d used a ladder or they’d been close to seven foot tall. 

The dark spots on the body were at both palms, both wrists, forearms just above the elbows, shoulders, collarbones, lower legs just below the knees, just above the ankle, and then through the foot. The legs were apart, not pierced together. 

The man’s head slumped forward. His neck showed pale and whole. There was a dark patch of blood on his nearly white hair just behind one ear. If the nails were as big as Harry thought they were, if that blood had been caused by a nail, the tip should have protruded from his face, but it didn’t. 

Harry stood on his tip-toes, and even in boots he barely managed to see the man’s face. His face was slack with death, and he was older than the rest of him looked. The body was well cared for. He’d worked out regularly. 

Harry stumbled too far forward and had to put his hands out to catch himself. His fingers went right into the dry blood, and only then did he realize he’d forgotten his surgical gloves. 

Zerbrowski was right there to steady him, but Harry drew him quickly. “Sorry, I forgot my gloves.” 

“I didn’t expect you to touch the evidence,” he said. He fished a bottle of hand sanitizer out of one of the pockets. “Katie makes me carry it.” 

Harry had half a mind to turn it away, but he didn’t. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t catch anything. He rubbed it in as he stared around him, taking in the rest of the crime scene. Colored chalk had been used on the off-white walls. There were pentagrams of varying sizes on either side of the body. Pink, blue, red, green; almost decorative. It was haphazard. It wasn’t meant to be there. It was a distraction. 

Now, Harry didn’t know very much about runes, but he had spent a good deal around Hermione, and after the Dumare debacle with Sabin and that bloody circle that almost tore him apart, he had buckled down and started looking deeper. 

“Ignore the runes and symbols. It’s not ritualistic.” 

“You can tell that?” 

“Yup. None of these make sense, and you’d never use them together. It’s like some idiot took it out of a textbook and drew it to distract you from the obvious.” 

“And that is?” 

“Execution.” 

Zerbrowski rocked back on his heels, and looked at the body. “That… is not what I expected.” 

Harry turned and tilted his head. “You don’t notice it? It's a clear execution. He’s pissed someone off, maybe betrayed them. Maybe backed out of a deal, and someone said no? He’s got a lot of money, obviously. Everything else is pointless, the body and the nail gun is what counts.” 

“Do you think they wanted his money?” 

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” He stepped back. “You can’t take the money out of the dead. If that’s what they were after unless he has a will or some such. I mean there are a lot of things worth money here, but none of it was taken. But I mean what kind of job does he have? What does he do for a living?” 

“No one knows.” 

“Drugs? Theft? A host of things. But ignore the runes. There is no magic here, no spell, no nothing. I don’t even think this was ritualistic at all. Not even from a killer’s point of view. It’s just masking the obvious.” 

“Detective Reynolds said that it didn’t have any magic purpose to it,” said Zerbrowski nodded, and now Harry was a little annoyed. 

“Why even call me in?” 

“He said he wanted confirmation.” 

Harry had half a mind to tell this whole entire team to fuck the bloody hell off. He was in no mood for Dolph’s obsessive paranoia. Harry didn’t much like Tammy Reynolds, she was after all one of the outside witches who thought they knew everything, and yet they knew nothing about real magic. But, she was a good detective. Harry would afford her that. She was just an idiot. 

He didn’t bother to say anything. It would be moot. Harry turned and stomped over towards the back of windows that took up most of the other wall. He stood there and stared off at the amazing view. Nothing but hills, trees, and it did look as if the house sat in the middle of nowhere. 

Someone who didn’t want watchers. Someone who didn’t want anyone involved in his life. “I don’t think anyone scouted the house. I think they knew him personally.” 

“Like a lover?” 

“Mm, no. I hate to be sexist, but if this is a woman, she couldn’t have done it. Not likely, and even then a man would have a rough time. Maybe someone of Dolph’s size, but even then. He would sag and flip and fall. No. This was a team. More than one, and likely more than two. You’d need one on each side, and then another with the nail gun. Everything else is a smokescreen.” 

“You’ve told me things that the others haven’t. You always do,” said Zerbrowski. “How are you feeling?” 

Harry felt like shit. He still did, but he somehow managed to grab some energy from somewhere. But, his head was hurting now. He could feel a dull ache, and he was still bleeding cold. He was also still hurt, and he hugged himself closer all the while tucking his hands into his jacket. “No idea.” 

“You said execution. No one said that. Not even Dolph.” 

“Looks like a message.  _ I nailed you, _ ’ said Harry in a literal sense. “Could be sexual, but it doesn’t look like it at all. So, what is another definition for that term?” 

“Killed you. Hurt you. Destroyed you. I guess there are many terms for it. Execution, hm? I wonder what he was into?” 

“That’s not for me to find out. Tell me that the next scene doesn’t have me confirming because I’d rather go back home and go to bed.”

“I don’t know, probably some.” 

Harry brought out his hands with a heavy sigh. “I’m done. Bloody hell, so done.” 

“Wait! Harry!” Harry turned, but he had made the mistake of turning too quickly, and the world began to spin around him. 

Zerbrowski grabbed him before he could collapse. Harry, instinctively reached out to the man, shivering even more than before. “Jesus, you’re freezing!” He clutched Harry and dragged him to the sofa. Zerbrowski touched Harry’s face, and frowned. “Are you wounded?” 

“No. I’m fine.” 

“You must really be coming down with something. My God you’re chilled to the bone.” 

“I know,” said Harry burrowing his face down into his coat. “I need to go home, make sure Teddy doesn’t have this too. I can’t leave Jason outside a scene.” Or Shang-Da and Bobby Lee, he didn’t say. He tried to get up only to stumble on the soft carpet. 

“Harry… maybe I can call Dolph, but I think the next one is worse. It’s not really her expertise. It’s more yours, so he’ll want your opinion. Meat factory, is all I can say.” Harry frowned and turned to look at him. “I’m sorry, but please don’t take Jason.” 

“I don’t have a choice, Sergeant. Not if you want me there instead of home fighting this off.” 

Zerbrowski sighed. “Never thought hearing that would be an insult.” He rubbed Harry’s shoulder and arms as if trying to get warmth in them, and slowly let go. “At least leave him at the door.” 

“What? So I can stumble in front of Dolph?” Harry scoffed.

“No one would blame you if you’re sick, Harry.”

“Do I really need to spell it out to you?” Harry held up a shaking hand and started ticking off fingers. “Dolph hasn’t cared since Jean and I came out. Reynolds would see it as proof that she’s better at magic… You know now that I think about it, Clive might be the only one who would care. Or has he found something about me to change his opinion too?” Harry pushed away from Zerbrowski as the detective stood in shock. He stumbled his way out of the house and likely would have fallen again if Jason wasn’t there to catch him. 

“Lupa…” Harry’s nose went into Jason’s shoulder. He used the wolf’s scent as a focus point. 

“Harry, please!” Zerbrowski came running out of the house. Before anyone could say anything else Harry’s phone rang.

“Hello?” He answered shortly, not even bothering to check who it was.

“Where are you? You’re needed here now.”

“Hi Lieutenant. We were just talking about you. Sergeant Zebrowski says hi.”

“If you’re done there, get your ass here now, Potter.” Dolph was loud enough that even Zerbrowski heard him as Harry pulled the phone from his ear. Jason snapped out a hand and put it on speaker phone and took it from Harry so he could focus on standing.

“You’re sick, you don’t need to do this. You should go home Harry.” Zerbrowski said as he came to a stop by Harry.

“Sick? Zerbrowski, I don’t care what he’s been telling you but he needs to be here; not at home. Potter, if you aren’t here in 15 I’m dropping your contract.”

“Dolph…” Zerbrowski shot a surprised look at the phone in Jason’s hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.” Harry stated blandly before taking the phone back and hanging up. He needed the contract to stay, especially as he had been working on training Larry to work with the police in the same way as him. If the contract was dropped, it would lose Larry that chance and any chance Harry had of getting true supernaturals on the force. If it wasn’t for either of those, he’d drop the damn thing. 

“Harry…”

“You heard the man,” said Harry speaking over Zebrowski. Jason was borderline growling now, and Harry managed to somehow gather some strength to pull himself back to his feet and get steady. “Let’s go, Jason.” He never looked back. 

“They don’t deserve you, Lupa,” Jason despaired as they drove toward Chesterfield. “You don’t need the contract. I mean, you have a ton of money, and you’re a Necromancer.”

“It’s not the money,” said Harry who was curled up on his side in the seat. His knees to his chest, and his nose down on it. He couldn’t handle looking outside and seeing the partially blurred scenery pass by.

“Then what is it?” 

“If the contract is dropped, not only would Larry suffer for it. But, everything I’ve tried to promote since I started would be dropped. Not to mention, I’m Jean-Claude’s human servant, and now more than ever I have to be the human voice of reason. It’s because of me that we’ve been able to catch our own before they can get too far.” It was usually the newly turned or transformed who sometimes they got out of hand. Sometimes they lost themselves in a moment of anger or even sexual pleasure, and it resulted in harm or death. 

Harry didn’t believe the law system should take care of them unless they were independent. He believed that the leaders and enforcer’s held that job. It also lowered the preternatural crime rate exponentially. The human law was not fair or proper punishment in the slightest. His position in RPIT gave him a lot of access to help their people. He was Lupa. He was Nimir-Ra. He was Jean-Claude’s human servant, and he would not fail in any of those. No matter what the arsehole named Dolph tried. 

Jason sighed because he actually understood this. The wererats and wolves were the largest with the hyenas right behind them. “I just don’t like to see you so sick, Lupa.” 

“Can’t be helped. I’ll be fine. Maybe. Eventually.” Harry huffed at this. 

“Can I at least get you some food?” 

“Ngh.” Food. He couldn’t even stomach the idea. By now, he knew his core temperature had dropped. He’d used a warming charm, but it hadn’t done anything for him. Every so often his teeth would chatter, and the heat was on full blast. Poor Jason was sweating profusely as though it were 100 degrees in temperature. 

It was about five minutes into the drive when Jason let out a gasp. “Whoa…” 

Harry raised his head, grimacing at the ping rising through him, and that was when he saw the giant antenna of the news vans before the police cars. “Bloody fucking hell…” Harry’s accent came out extremely thick all of a sudden. 

“It’s the reporters isn’t it?” 

“Mhmm.” Merlin, this was the last thing he needed right now. He dropped his knees, and tried to shift and stretch. Every part of him ached by now. It was like pins and needles shooting through his joints. He pulled out his wand, and pointed it at himself. “ _ Enervate! _ ” 

A shot of fresh energy that he knew was empty poured through him, and he shook his head as he tried to focus. It was probably because of the news van, the police had blocked the street. When someone had time, they’d probably bring up those official-looking sawhorses. Right now they had a police cruiser, a uniformed officer leaning against it, and yellow do-not-cross tape strung from mailbox to mailbox across the street. 

There were two local news vans and a handful of print media. Harry could always tell print because they have the still cameras and no microphones. Though they will shove those bloody tape recorders in his face. 

They parked a half a block away, and Harry could see Bobby Lee and Shang-Da out of the rearview mirror. Harry rubbed at his forehead, and double checked the mirror to see that shadows had gathered around his eyes making him look either like a racoon or one of those Gothic type vampires with a mound of liquid liner. Merlin, Harry hated that stuff. It burned and itched. He’d only worn it twice. 

His face was sheet white. Almost translucent, and was he seeing things or was his lips a bit on the blue side? Maybe he was just seeing things. 

“How did they hear about it so quickly?” Jason asked, shutting the engine off. 

“One of the neighbors likely called it in or one of the news vans was close enough for something else. Once something hits the scanners, the reporters know about it.” 

“Why not at the first scene?” 

“The first one was more isolated, harder to get to. Either that or more sensationalized.” Harry stumbled his way out of the Escalade. Jason moved fast, fearing for Harry’s balance. “Getting through the press is going to be a pain in the arse.” 

“The Master of the City’s lover, and an Equalizer on top of it. Yep,” said Jason smirking. 

Harry sighed and sagged against him. “No one’s been that polite, and I don’t doubt that some won’t give a shit about the crime once they realize it.” 

It was thanks to the Enervate that Harry was able to actually walk. He could use a spell to divert their attention, but he needed all the magic inside of him right now to keep upright. Harry placed his hand through Jason’s arm, and they started down the sidewalk towards the crowd. There were lots of people, and most of them weren’t reporters. Harry kept his badge strung around his neck, one hand clutched around it so that it didn’t fall between him and Jason. 

Luckily, because he had Jason on his arm it took the reporters a lot longer to realize who he was, and they weren’t just part of the crowd that continued to grow. They were almost at the yellow tape before one of the reporters spotted him. 

“Mr. Potter-Black, why are you here, was the murdered woman a vampire victim?” 

Harry didn’t look at them, and Jason kept quiet as a tape recorder shot toward his face. He had half a mind to throw his magic out, but yeah, no that would be a bad idea right now. They would print whatever the fuck they wanted, and it would not matter what he had said. 

It was like the magical world all over again. “ _ Is it a vampire kill? What kind of monster is it? Do you think they’ll be more victims?” _ And no that was not all one person asking. It was multitudes that they all bled together making Harry’s head spin. He kept a death grip on Jason, his fingers had to have been digging in. “ _ Harry, is this your new boyfriend? Have you dumped Jean-Claude?” _

Yeah, Jean-Claude wasn’t popular at all, nope. No way, and now more questions were coming hard and quick. 

Harry shoved the badge into the uniformed officer’s face, and silently double fucking dared him not to raise the damn tape. He raised it in swift succession, and Harry was moving toward the house to a hail of questions that stayed at his back. Harry never did bother with the news or the media. His leopards and Draco on the other hand loved talking about when he made them. His last time was when he came out of Narcissus in Chains in Jean-Claude’s arms bloodied to bits, thanks to Chimera. 

As Harry got past the line, the energy began to wane, and he was becoming shaky once more. There were fewer cops here, and most of them were faces that Harry recognized. All of them trusted Harry, and no one questioned his or Jason’s presence. 

The uniform on the door looked pale, his dark eyes flashing too much white. “Lieutenant Storr is expecting you, Marshal Potter-Black.” 

The uniform opened the door for them because he was wearing rubber gloves. Harry didn’t have any energy to be conjuring his own right now. 

“Whatever you do, don’t touch anything until I get us some gloves,” said Harry softly. 

“Gloves?” 

“Surgical gloves, that way if they find a latent print, they won’t get all excited and then find out it was yours or mine.” 

“Ah.” 

They were standing in a narrow entryway with stairs leading straight up from the door, a living room to the left, and an opening to the right that led to what looked like a dining room. There was an opening beyond that where he could glimpse part of the kitchen. 

For all of a second the world began to spin in a sea of technicolor, and he quietly muttered another enervate beneath his breath just as Detective Merlioni glided into the living room and saw them. “Potter-Black, thought you’d chickened out.” 

Harry looked up at the tall man with his curling gray hair cut short. The neck of his white long-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned, his tie tugged down crooked, as if he’d loosened everything without caring what it looked like. Merlioni hated ties, but he was usually a lot neater than Zerbrowski. 

“Must be bad.” 

“What makes you say that?” he asked, frowning. 

“You’ve tugged your tie all crooked like you needed air, and you haven’t called me kiddo yet.” 

He grinned flashing white teeth. “It’s early days, kiddo!” 

For some strange reason that made him feel a bit better. It seemed that Merlioni didn’t hate him. Good to know. Maybe there was hope. Or maybe not. Who knew? “Do you have some gloves we can borrow? I was so not expecting a scene today.” 

He glanced at Jason then, as if seeing him for the first time, but Harry knew he’d seen him. Cops see almost everything around a crime scene. “Who is this?” 

“My driver.” 

He raised his eyebrows at that. “Driver, woo-woo, coming up in the world.” 

“Unless you want me to pass out right now from whatever bug I’ve caught, I need him at my side right now. If there weren’t enough press outside to cover an entire city block, I’d have had him leave me at the door, but I don’t want him going back out in that. They’ll never believe he’s not involved.” 

Merlioni stepped to the big picture window in the living room and lifted the edge of the drape to peak out. “They are damned persistent today.” 

“How the hell did they get here so quick?” 

“Neighbor called them probably. Everyone wants to be on the fucking television these days.” He turned back to them. “What’s your driver’s name?” 

“Jason Shuyler.” 

He shook his head. “Name doesn’t mean anything to me.” 

“I don’t know who you are either,” said Jason with a boy-like smile. 

“This is Rob Merlioni. A pain in my arse.” 

Merlioni barked in laughter as Jason cocked his head. “Don’t look like a Rob. You look like a Mike.” 

“Hah, I like you, kid.” He slapped Jason on the shoulder. “My mama doesn’t think so either, she’s always after me-- Roberto, I give you such a name, you should use it.” 

“Nice ring to it,” said Harry who hadn’t known his full first name. Harry could see the man was stalling, and so to get him on his side, Harry let him. 

“There’s a box of gloves in the kitchen, on the counter, help yourself. I’m going outside for a smoke.” 

“When did that start?” 

“Just now.” He looked at Harry, and his eyes were haunted. “I’ve seen worse, Potter-Black, hell we’ve waded through worse together, you and me, but I’m tired today. Maybe I’m gettin’ old.” 

“I might not be getting old, but I am with you on that being tired. I woke up out of bed, and almost couldn’t make it.” 

“No place if you’re sick, Potter-Black. No one’s going to scorn you. Not today.” 

“Don’t be so sure,” said Harry giving Merlioni a look. 

“Just don’t tell him I didn’t make your driver wait outside.” 

“Secret is safe with me.” 

He went out, closing the door softly behind him. The house was very quiet, only the rushing hush of the heater, and it did little to warm him at all. There should have been people all over the place. Instead, they stood in the small entryway in a well of silence so thick that Harry could hear the blood in his own ears. It was thrumming, filling the silence with something, anything, and that was when Harry felt the thrumming energy that wasn’t his own blood. It was spine-tingling, and had Harry tilting his head to see Jason standing there, his eyes flickering from side to side, narrowing, and even the pulse in his throat. 

“Jason,” Harry whispered, but he shouldn’t have had to prompt him because the smell was suddenly right there. It washed through his clogged senses, and he staggered a bit causing Jason to hold onto him. 

“I knew you’d smell it,” said Jason, his voice had gone hoarse. 

“Meat. Blood…” He was woozy all of a sudden as the energy continued to creep along Harry’s skin. His own beast from somewhere in the shadows of his odd mixture was stirring awake. 

“Please temper that down. I can’t rise here,” Harry whispered. 

“Sorry,” he croaked. 

“It’s okay. But, please, lid on it.” He stroked his wolf on the shoulder. He knew it was upstairs. Blood had odd scents from time to time. Mostly it smelled the same from a normal point of view, but blood mixing with meat and other proteins gave off the smell of copper that had gone green over time. Some smelled like raw meat, and others had a sweet titillating scent. 

Yes, Harry could smell all kinds of different blood these days. Normally, Harry was never phased by blood. None of that bothered him. Sure, at times he hungered for the flesh, and could dream and enjoy Jean-Claude’s lust. He’d even felt Marcus and the others rise up when he went on a hunt during full moons. He could taste and feel what Micah bit into. Yeah, it was kind of weird. How was it Harry couldn’t shift at all? He wouldn’t care either way to be honest. Maybe Hermione was right and his animagus prevented him? Or maybe it was the Basilisk venom? Or phoenix tears? Merlin knew! A cocktail for sure of things that Harry simply didn’t understand. 

Harry realized that Jason was ruffling himself up, as though something wrong had entered his territory. His eyes got darker and deeper, and they became almost Jean-Claude blue rather than spring skies. 

“Jason!” Harry pulled his wolf making the blond shake his head. 

“Sorry…” 

“Go outside.” 

“I can’t leave you.” 

“Go outside,” said Harry in a command tone. He let go of Jason, and gently pushed him back, using enough of his power to make Jason step away. “Out. Please.” 

“I just..” 

“I know.” Harry stroked his cheek. “Step outside with Merlioni, and don’t eat him.” 

Jason smirked. “Nah, I won’t. Maybe I’ll ask for a cigarette?” 

“You’re explaining to Jean-Claude.” He didn’t care about reporters so much as he cared about Jason. He was still new. He’d come a very long way, but he was still a werewolf, and he wasn’t an Alpha, but Harry was his Lupa. 

His own needs were childish compared to those under his command and care. It was this resolve, and this deep link that had him moving as though he owned the house with gliding steps, and Jason did back out as commanded. 

Harry headed into the kitchen to see a box of gloves sitting aside and open beside a nearly full trash bag. Harry smelled the blood, the scent that wafted from it as he plucked two from the box, and began to slip them on. He couldn’t help but wonder where everyone was, and why it was so bloody silent. At one time, Harry thought less was more at crime scenes, but now. It was dead. Completely dead. 

Dolph found him in the kitchen slipping into his gloves, and thanks to him not feeling great, he’d messed up the gloves twice, and had to get new ones. In a way, gloves were tricky. It was easy to get too many fingers in one hole or not enough fingers to cover all five. 

Harry didn’t even look at Dolph, the shadow loomed over him like a Slytherin Beater, and he could feel the man’s heart-beat. It was high. He could almost taste the blood and tension. 

“Who did you bring with you outside?” Dolph asked sharply. 

Shit, the bastard must have looked out there to see Jason. “Driver.” 

He shook his head, his dark hair so freshly cut that his ears looked pale and stranded. “Don’t you have any human friends left?” he asked. 

“Sure, three that live with me. He’s outside. He’s not going further than that without me.” 

“I want him off the property!” 

“No.” 

Dolph’s eyes narrowed. “What?!” 

“You heard me. I’m sick, Dolph. I’m here, but I am sick. It’s a wonder that I am up and around right now.” He was almost shaking between the nerves and freezing. 

That was when Merlioni came back into the room. “Kid is hidden behind a tree. No reporter can see him.” 

“Thanks, Merlioni,” said Harry pretending like Dolph wasn’t even there. His headache was returning with a flutter of pain behind both eyes. 

“I want him gone!” Dolph barked. 

“Then I’m going because I don’t have time for your bloody fucking drama in my already drama filled life right now. I am sick, I am tired, and I will not listen to your prejudice and scorn. It’s not worth it. You find a new expert. Go right ahead and cancel the contract like you threatened.” Merlioni’s eyes went wide in shock. 

Harry made for the door when Dolph seized him by his arm. “You’d choose a monster over us?!” 

“Us? Who is us?” Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“Your own people! Human! Or are you even human?” he spat. 

“Lieutenant!” Merlioni snapped out. 

“Get off me,” Harry hissed in warning. “You do not touch me without my permission under any fucking circumstances!” He tried to jerk away, but Dolph’s strength hadn’t been mentioned all these years for no reason at all, and Harry being sick and his small size had him completely unprepared, and he was on the move. His long legs half-dragging Harry with him across the kitchen to the dining room door. 

“LET GO OF ME!” Harry roared and he tried to send a pulse of his magic; and even if Dolph grunted, he made no moves to let go. “Dolph…!” he snarled, but the room began to spin in a violent whirling haze. He was surprised Jason didn’t burst back in. Maybe his illness was making him quieter than he thought he was being?

“Lieutenant, you cannot do this!” Merlioni was suddenly on the move. 

“Out of my way Merlioni! I want him to see this!” 

“Then let him walk, for Christ’s sakes!” 

But Dolph ignored him, and Harry was helpless as Dolph dragged him toward the stairs. He tried to send more pulses of his magic, and still Dolph didn’t let go. He wasn’t even sure if it was making contact to get released. Each stairs hit his knees or his hip as the man kept hold, not even bothering to care that he was knocking into walls as tears in his trousers appeared from the rug burns. 

Harry couldn’t get his feet under him long enough to stand, and that headache pressing down on him began to burst open at the seams. He dragged Harry down the hall. “Dolph, dammit! Let me go…” he was almost at the pleading point now as they finally got to a door. He opened it, and jerked Harry to his feet causing the world to spin like the carousel at the Circus, and bright streamers of blood red walls blurred together. He held Harry down, each of his big hands on both sides of his arms. 

Harry’s eyes by now were rolling, and not because of the crime scene, but because of the pain and wooziness, the smell was powerful. It took a while for Harry’s vision to clear, but he was roaring sick now. His stomach flopping and flipping and doing all kinds of things. He was so weak, he didn’t want to move. He couldn’t move. He was not feeling good, and it was cold. So fucking cold. 

There was a bed against the far wall, and he glimpsed white pillows against a lavender wall, then a woman’s head, and some of her shoulders. From about the collar bones down, there was only a red ruin. No body. It had likely been eaten. The entirety of the bed was dripping, and the blood wasn’t even red. It was black. A trick of the light or the fact that it wasn’t just blood. 

A lot of meat, the scent flowed over him, making the wooziness gain strength. Harry saw piles of bedclothes, black and red and sodden, soaked in gore. Gore, not just blood, gore. Harry looked back at the woman’s head, and he knew that was all that was left of her. 

“What do you think?” Dolph spat as he pushed Harry toward the bed. “Pretty enough for you? Because one of your fucking friends did this!” he pressed Harry close to the bed until his legs squeezed against the gore-soaked bed clothes. The blood was cool to touch. 

“Dolph, you can’t do this!” Merlioni growled from behind. 

“Lieutenant!” Another voice came from the open door. “You need to release him!” Dolph turned with Harry still gripped, and Detective Clive Perry stood in the doorway. He stared at them and took one step back. “You have to let Harry go!” 

“Like hell I will! One of his friends did this!” 

“Not a single one of my wolves would have ever done this,” Harry hissed viciously trying to weakly struggle from Dolph’s grip. If he didn’t get out of here soon he was going to throw up.

“Do you hear him? He claims these monsters! He claims them as his own!” 

Perry only shook his head. “Lieutenant, I think Mr. Potter-Black has seen enough of the crime scene. You need to release him.” He gestured out of the room.

Dolph shook Harry causing the room to spin again, his head shook and rattled around. “Not yet, he hasn’t! I want an answer. I want a fucking answer!” He jerked Harry around to face back into the room. He dragged him towards the headboard, which was painted a lavender so close to the wall’s color that he hadn’t seen it. He pushed him forward until he was inches from it. There was a fresh claw mark like a pale scar in the wood and paint. 

“What do you think did that, Harry?” He jerked Harry around until he was the only thing holding him up. Harry knew by now that his upper arms were bruised all to hell, they didn’t even feel like anything. He also knew that if Dolph let him go now he’d fall like marionette with its strings cut. It would also likely be enough of a change in position that his body would force him to pass out or throw up. It was a coin toss on which. He was shook some more, much like a ragdoll, and all Harry could do was go completely limp. He could hear cries in the background, shouts, and yells, but none of that mattered because he began to dive deep into his mind. 

He passed familiar red eyes, and his mind seemed to cascade showers of electricity reaching out to the men in his life unconsciously, and there was a cacophony of noise and brilliant bright light. 

“Unhand me!” Harry’s voice this time came out with a strength it had not had before, and something cold and hot windy and earthy moved through him, multiple beasts swirled beneath his chest, and Dolph went flying into the wall. His hands, Harry noted, were burnt and cinged black. It was good to know that his magic still tried to defend him. He felt energized like his body had become a lightning rod, and he punched Dolph so hard that the man went down on his knees. “You call my friends a monster when you’re the monster! You are just like every other fucking person I’ve met in my life. The last human bastard to manhandle me like that was the same bloody fucker that killed my family, and he was your precious fucking human! So get off your bloody high horse, you fucking twat. Whatever did this was a monster, but my friends and my family are not monsters, and you would know that if you opened your goddamn eyes and looked around you! I will not let you drag me or my own into your sphere of insanity! Get. Over. Yourself.” 

He managed to push past everyone at the door just before the world spun one last time, and Harry met the soft pale blue carpet. He heard nothing, he saw nothing, and blackness coasted across his eyes. 


	7. Chapter Seven

#  Chapter Seven

So cold. It was always cold, and memories swept through him trapped inside a dog-house in the freezing snow. He was hungry and his body felt so weak. It had been Christmas, and his relatives were hosting Aunt Marge, and he was a most uninvited guest. He curled in on himself hugging his body to try and draw as much warmth as he could into himself. 

“He’s fucking freezing,” hissed a voice. 

“Go get the boy! Now!” 

But, that wasn’t right. There were no voices in his memories. Just the snow fall and the bright moon in the sky. 

“Lu- Harry! What did you do to him?” A snarl, but it wasn’t Aunt Marge’s vicious dog. It was too human, too… he knew that voice, but why did he know that voice?

“We didn’t do anything, kiddo.” 

“I bet. Is that asshole gone?” 

“He’s gone. I’m Detective Perry. You his driver?” 

“I’m his guard too. I need to get him out of here. I have to take care of him.” 

“He needs a hospital, they’re on their way.” 

“Nothing they can do for him. Out of my way, please!” 

And it was this that had Harry’s eyes cracking open. A bright white light flooded across his eyes, and it blinded him. A series of hands were rubbing his face and neck, his shoulders, and he thought there was a blanket over him of some sort. 

He saw a pair of knees kneeling on the tile floor when the stream of light began to fade, and the world tried to move into focus. Something or someone lifted him, and cradled him into his arms. 

“Harry, wake up.” 

He realized it was Jason. “I’m awake,” somehow he found his voice. Somehow, he managed to catch a breath. Something kept clicking, and it took a second to realize that it was his teeth chattering. 

“His lips are turning blue, what the hell is wrong with him?” 

“I told you he was sick. I got to get him home. I have to get him… somewhere.” 

“It’s probably the threefold rule. He did too much magic...” 

“Oh shut up you quack. You’re not a  _ real _ witch!” growled Jason. “You don’t know anything.” 

“Jason… it’s okay,” Harry tried to raise himself off the floor, but it was way too much for him, and he flopped back down. 

“They’ve called an ambulance, Harry. Should I call Dr. Fletcher or get you home?”

“Dr. Fletcher.” Harry whispered as he curled into Jason’s warmth.

“Who’s Dr. Fletcher?” Clive asked.

“Great. I’ll send Enforcer ahead, see if we can get Nurse there too; and Skoll will drive.” 

“Are you taking him to the hospital? Keep him here until the ambulance arrives.” Clive placed a hand on Harry as if to stop Jason from standing with him.

“We can get him there faster, out of the way.” Jason stood with Harry in his arms as if he weighed nothing. Harry could feel himself being moved but couldn’t summon the energy to do anything. 

“At least let us clear a path through the reporters. Put a blanket on him, no reason to give their cameras gossip photos. You better get better Kiddo.” Harry felt a blanket draped over him, covering his head to the toes of his feet. He was jostled slightly as Jason shifted his arms to ensure Harry would stay covered. 

“You mentioned someone else driving, how will you get them here quickly?” Clive asked as Merlioni grabbed a few more officers to help clear the way.

“They are already here, just further back.” Jason stated. “They’ll hear me soon enough.”

“What does that mean?” Reynolds asked as she took up the rear of the group. 

“Skoll. Enforcer. You are needed. Driver and to get Nurse and Dr. Fletcher.” Jason said in a normal voice as they reached the yellow tape. The first of the officers were backing up the press while another held the tape up for those coming through. As soon as one recognized Jason from earlier, the noise increased as they all shouted out questions about what or who he was holding. Everyone ignored them.

“Are you sure anyone heard your statement?” Reynolds looked around. “Hard to hear anything in this crowd.”

“That’s because you’re not special enough.” Jason snapped back to her before he spotted his fellow wolf. “Skoll.”

“To the car now, Enforcer, has already left.” Shang-Da ignored the officers surrounding Jason. 

“Hey, back up pall!” Merlioni frowned as Shang-Da stepped forward and reached around to grab the car keys from Jason’s front pocket. 

“It’s okay. He’s going to be driving us to the hospital. Thanks for the help officers.” Jason quickly moved to the back seat of the car, slipping in carefully as Shang-Da held the door open. 

“Wait! What hospital?” Clive asked a last time as Shang-Da shut the door and climbed into the driver’s seat ignoring the man. With little care to those near the car, Shang-Da quickly got them moving down the road. 

“What happened?” He growled out.

“I don’t know! He was fine until he got out of the shower this morning. He complained of the cold and it just got worse as the day went on. He wouldn’t let me stop and get him food. I don’t know what happened in the house just now until I felt his beast act up.” Jason whined in concern. He rubbed up and down Harry as he felt his Lupa’s form continue to shake from the cold. “He’s so cold! Why does he keep getting colder? Could something be wrong with the others? Could they be pulling energy from him accidentally?” 

“Ulfric will be able to tell. Just keep him warm.” That was the last thing Harry clearly heard as he was pulled under again.

oOo

He came back to consciousness to the rushing heat of water. It felt as if bubbles were gliding over his skin, and familiar hands ran lengths up and down his chest. “Come on, my Lupa, wake up,” hissed the familiar voice in his ear. A hot breath, so hot. He didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to go back to that cold dog house. 

Everything around him seemed to pause for a moment, and his eyes flickered. A sound of a hum or motor or something. 

“Is he getting better?” 

“I don’t know, little wolf,” said Marcus’ voice. “He needs to wake. Is Micah here yet? Edward needs to be in here too.” 

“No Ulfric. We also need Damian. What the hell is going on?” 

“I can’t answer that. I have no answers,” the voice became more of a growl, like in frustration. 

“Sorry, Ulfric. I’m being out of line. I’ll…” 

“You are permitted to stay. My growl is not at you, but the situation. Everyone is falling, and this is no time to be doing that with enemies in our territory.” 

Harry’s eyes finally opened fully, and he took in a sharp breath. 

“Lupa?” 

He saw the bubbles of a large expansive hot-tub, the heated jets of water were spilling all over him with a blanket of heat. 

“Ulfric?” Harry breathed, and Marcus seized his chin gently and tilted it so that their eyes met. 

“You’re back.” His eyes went from strict to gentle. 

“What happened?” Harry asked, feeling weightless. It was like Lockhart had taken all the bones out of his body, and not just his arm. He was lying there limp, and it was sad. He had a naked Ulfric behind him, and couldn’t even feel it. 

“Do you not remember?” 

Harry dropped his gaze and saw Jason on the edge of the tub. He had his arms crossed on top with his chin pressed to the back of his hand. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Lupa.” 

“What about Micah, Edward, and Damian?” 

“Lupa, I know you worry about everyone, but you need to worry about yourself,” Marcus chastised. “Your body temperature was so low, I didn’t think I could bring you back. Your body reacted like a shapeshifter who has been mortally wounded.” 

“How?” 

“We don’t know, but Micah and Damian are experiencing it, and Edward called. Somehow, you tapped into him. His energy depleted and faster than anticipated.” 

“What?!” Harry tried to move, his heart racing in a panic. “Edward!?” 

“He’ll be fine. Micah took care of him. He gave him his own energy.”

“I did that to him?” If that was the case, then there was no way he was going to keep this connection going...

“No. He passed it over willingly, Harry. He felt your pain. He heard your call, and he answered it. He could have shut the door, but he didn’t. Damian also passed his energy to you, and he collapsed.” 

“I didn’t mean to.” 

“You didn’t steal it. They gave it to you. They felt the connection on your end growing cold, and they opened their own to give it to you. I am ever so glad. Lupa, what happened to you?” 

“I don’t know,” Harry choked. “Jean-Claude? Is he okay?” 

“Unsure. He has not woke from his slumber. Did you not feed your ardeur?” 

“I swear I did,” said Harry. 

“Yes, Ulfric. We fed it,” said Jason. “As soon as he woke.” 

“Then we can cross that off the list. For now, lay back, and trust in everyone to care for those who are in need.” 

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, and he did as commanded, and closed his eyes. He tried not to let his emotions overwhelm him, and kept his lashes locked so that the tears wouldn’t fall. Merlin, if he hurt any of them… he could never live with himself. What was wrong with him? What happened? It couldn’t have been a bug or the flu. Not if it knocked others out too.

Harry realized he was in the hospital clinic of the wererats. He was in a large white subway tiled bathroom in an enclosed area hidden by a screen from the communal showers. He had wondered why the large twelve person hot-tub had been here. He supposed it was for wounded shifters to get their temperatures back up? It could probably work with a vampire too. He faded in and out, unable to keep conscious for long enough.

He awoke to the sound of the door banging open. He was still submerged in the heated water, and when he turned his head, he gasped. 

“Get them in the tub,” said Marcus. “Swiftly.” 

“We only managed to get their temperatures up for transport. Jean-Claude is awake, and once the sun goes down completely he’ll be here. He’s caring for Damian. Draco and Hermione have done wonders for Damian, and keeping him awake. He might have faded completely otherwise.” 

It was the most bizarre sight that Harry had ever seen. Rafael was hurrying into the room with Edward in his arms. Following just behind him was Noah, who had Micah. Both of them were astonishingly pale. 

Never in Harry’s life had he ever seen Edward or Micah so helpless before, and it killed him inside. “Edward… Micah…” 

Quick work was made of their clothes, and the two were submerged. Harry tried to reach for them, but he had no strength. Marcus and Rafael both situated them so they were against Harry who looped arms around them both. 

He could feel the humming connection between them. He couldn’t hear what Rafael was telling Marcus, but they were soon alone with the door shutting. “So sorry.” Harry broke down, his face buried into Edward’s neck. He clung to Micah, and Marcus sighed as he ran his hands over Harry. 

“Lupa… it was not your fault.” 

“It is… it’s because of me they’re like this.” It didn’t matter if they were willing or not. To see the strongest men Harry had ever met being carried into a clinic was a shock of a thousand volts through his system. 

Marcus growled, and pulled Harry. “No, Lupa. Something has attacked you, and in turn attacked them too.” 

“Still my fault,” Harry clung to his men as Marcus held onto him. He was no longer shivering, but the drain on his energy was telling as for long stretches he would go still and simply exist without movement. 

As more time was lost, he faded beneath the consciousness once more only to appear before his devil in the expanse of his mind. 

“Tom?” Harry breathed. “What’s going on? What’s with my energy depleting?” 

“You don’t know?” Voldemort stood like a shadow deep inside of Harry. Nothing around him was at all detailed, no hall with a hundred fleet of doors. It was only Voldemort and him standing opposite each other. It was as though even his mind was affected by exhaustion. “Of course, we have fortified your mind to keep out all intruders.” 

“Intruders?” 

“Yes. Belle Morte’s emissary attempted to draw on the power and strength of Jean-Claude, but Jean-Claude no longer answers to that bloodline, and your magic came out to block it. Unfortunately in doing so you were engaged enough to let down your barriers. This interesting source of power is a strength, but also a weakness during its infancy stages. You had a direct source straight to Belle Morte. A small chink that allowed them to worm in to get to Jean-Claude.” 

It took Harry’s exhausted mind to work out what Voldemort was trying to tell him. “Musette. She’s draining us?” 

“Yes. You see, they used the chink in your ardeur to try and reach Jean-Claude. When they discovered that they could not get to him, all of your energy began to drain. I only come out when your defensive barriers are at such risk of leaving a gaping hole. I am the last line, if it comes that you can no longer help yourself, that’s when my magic rises.” 

“Can we stop it?” Harry asked. “Edward, Micah…” 

“Yes, I know. Both of them opened themselves to you. If they hadn’t you would have been drained entirely. They are not hurt, merely drained. Edward acted as a barrier to plug the drain, but as you know, repairs are only temporary. Micah returned energy to Edward. We need to fix it.” 

“How?” He was desperate. He’d do anything at this point. “How do we fix it?” 

“It will require me to vanish for a time, and it will leave you open. Your metaphysical shields will lower. It has the consequence of leaving you vulnerable to outside interference.” 

“You mean someone or something can get into me? Like roll me?” 

“Correct. Your Necromancy and natural barriers will help and make it harder, but without me you will have a small weakness. It is our magic combined that allows you to have complete immunity over the mind magics. Most witches and wizards can boast a good amount of resistance. You have more than usual, but with me you are immune completely.” 

It made sense. Draco had a good amount of immunity, and while Hermione was resistant, Jean-Claude could still affect her. Draco had been trained, Hermione hadn’t. 

“Are you going to come back?” 

Voldemort smirked. “Yes, as you know magic restores itself in time. Always replenishes. It’s what sets us apart from the outside magic. I will never truly leave you, Harry. Just as the men you have collected will never leave you. I imagine things would have gone differently if you’d had them when we were at odds.” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile tiredly. “You might not have had a chance.” 

“Indeed. Especially that Edward. He is one to watch. He may be the most human of all, but he is also the most strong-willed.” 

“Like I used to say. He’s one muggle I would have bet on against our kind.” Harry stepped forward, and swooped his arms around Voldemort. “Do what you have to. Help us, please.” 

“You got it, Harry. You have gained way too much to lose it now to a silly little girl. We shall show them who is better and stronger. Who is the most powerful. A Dark Mistress she is not. I am the Dark Lord, and no one usurps my position.” 

“Possessive.” 

“Indeed.” 

A thick warmth began to spread as Voldemort wrapped around Harry, and a bright pale light began to pulse around him. It sounded as though chimes were playing throughout him, and his inner mind and sanctuary began to evaporate. 

The next time he awoke, he was no longer in the hot-tub with it’s heated water and frothing bubbles. He was lying between two strong bodies on top of crisp sheets. He knew he wasn’t home or at the Circus because their sheets were silk and satin. 

“He’s been out for two days now. Why is it we woke up, but he hasn’t?” 

“I wish I had answers, Edward,” said Marcus nearby. 

“He’s getting warmer,” said Micah. “I think he’s going to wake soon.” Harry hummed at the hand that brushed his cheek. It was so warm and hot. He let out another hum at the feel of a metaphysical leopard licking his own. Seems Micah’s beast didn’t like him down and out either.

“Little Raven? Open your eyes,” Edward hissed right up against his ear making Harry draw a deep breath, and comply. 

“How do you do that?” Micah laughed. 

“Trade secret.” Which meant, Edward had no damn idea, but if it works… just go with it. 

“Crazy bitch,” Harry breathed out. 

And of all the things he could have said, no one expected that causing a bit of laughter as ice blue eyes came into focus. 

“What has happened Little Raven?” 

“I told you I have a devil in me. It was Musette. She tried to drain Jean-Claude.” 

“How?” 

“I think Belle Morte gave her enough ardeur to try and drain him. But when she couldn’t get to him. It tapped into me, when I was engaged with Jason to feed the ardeur.” 

“How can you know this?” Marcus asked sitting on the edge of the bed at Edward’s shoulder. 

“My devil. You see, I have his magic in me. Sometimes, he’s sentient, but only when I have no defenses left to help myself. He’s kind of my wall. I guess you can say he’s another beast in me. He’s my first. I guess. I don’t know. Is Jean-Claude okay?”

“He’s fine. He’s locked down the Circus, but it’s nine in the morning, and he can’t be here,” said Micah. 

“Damian?” 

“He woke at the same time as we did. Almost as soon as we were put in the bath,” said Edward. “How did we wake up? Interesting that as soon as we are in your presence we come back to.” He gave Harry an empty searching look. “What did you do?” 

“I didn’t do anything. You can say the devil on my shoulder cleansed us. He used his magic causing him to vanish. He pretty much used his magic to cancel all of this out. To stop it in its tracks completely.” 

“What does this mean?” asked Marcus. “Sounds too good to be true. What is the consequence?” 

Harry smiled. “I’ve always had a natural resistance to things, and with my necromancy powers, but with his magic in me it’s completely foolproof. Nothing can get in me and do damage. Nothing can twist or manipulate me in any way. But, with him temporarily gone…” 

“You are wide open,” said Edward tersely. Even a tiny hole and a 1% chance meant wide open to Edward. 

“Yeah. He’s my magical reserves. He’s my barrier. But, I think there’s something more going on. Something that isn’t Belle Morte and her bloody insanity. I feel like something has entered our territory. Jason felt it too, and I think combined with this draining, it all hit me at once.” 

“Jason explained to us some of what happened. He’s quite confused though. He said you were screaming, and you had bruises on you. What happened?” asked Marcus. 

“Dolph lost it,” said Harry rubbing his forehead. “He completely and utterly lost his mind.” He told them everything, and he was sure if Micah and Marcus hadn’t been leaders and Alpha’s they might have lost control. Edward on the other hand had his arms crossed, and was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

Marcus stood, and began to pace. “Jason made a similar comment. He said it smelled as though something new was there. He smelled wolf, and it can happen. Something powerful and dangerous enters our territory, and it causes a stir. It’s like the spirits are giving warning. But you would have missed those warnings completely being so sick as you were.” 

“I didn’t think of it then. But it was definitely a shifter. Dolph was so out of control. But I knew it wasn’t ours. I knew instantly. I could feel my hackles or something rising at the mere accusation. I really lost it when he just wouldn’t let me go. That’s when I reached into something and I became this force, and it made him let go finally.” 

“Tell me about the first crime scene.” Harry cocked his head toward Edward and he described the scene, making those blue eyes narrow. “Interesting, and I don’t find it coincidental.” 

“What? Do you know something Edward?” 

“I need confirmation, Little Raven. Do you have that number from that assassin you entertained?” 

It took all of a minute before Harry realized what he was saying, causing a great big warm blush to rise into his face. Micah began to laugh, throwing his head back, and almost shaking he was so amused. 

Marcus’ lips twitched, and Edward snorted. “You never fail to amuse me, Little Raven.” 

Harry not so kindly elbowed his Nimir-Raj causing a whine. “Nimir-Ra! I’ve been wounded. You should be good to me.” He rolled over onto Harry like a great big cat. Harry stroked Micah. His fingers playing through his hair, and kissing him on the forehead. 

“You think it’s connected?”

“Execution. I nailed you. It sounds like a group of hired assassins may be in town. Leo Harlan better have answers otherwise his visit to St. Louis will be cut short.” 

“Do you think it’s connected to the second? It didn’t look like it, but then…” 

“Not all assassins are created equal, Little Raven,” said Edward. 

“I know that. But, I mean. Both motives were completely different. The second one, what little I saw was beyond insanity. The first one was execution, the second was slaughter.” 

“Disagreements in ranks. But I have seen that particular style of execution before,” said Edward. 

Merlin, Harry didn’t want to, but if it was true and there was something in their territory, he had to get to the bottom of it. “I’ll call Zerbrowski. See if there are any updates. Surely, he can owe me one for what happened. If I really wanted I could ruin Dolph. I’m sure that threat will get me what we need.” 

“You work that end, I’ll work Harlan’s end. We can make use of Harlan. He knows he owes me one if he follows the code.” 

“Your arms were almost blackened, Lupa. You didn’t use that magic again on yourself did you?” asked Marcus leaning closer to inspect him. 

“No, Ulfric, I didn’t. That was Dolph.”

“What?” Edward’s face went blank.

“He wouldn’t let go. He just kept shaking me and squeezing my arms. If I hadn’t been who I am, I’d have lost my cookies or passed out. My magic reacted against him, but Dolph is one of the toughest humans I’ve met. I mean, do you remember that shifter incident you had me looking into? He wrestled with a pony-sized hyena, and pinned the damn thing!” Harry sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Dolph… what happened to him? He was one of the most honorable that I’ve ever met… I mean, I know he was under strain, but…” 

“Everyone snaps, Baby,” said Micah, visibly holding back a snarl. 

“A human can only take so much,” said Marcus. 

Edward ran a hand down the slightly faded bruises. “Did anyone get pictures when these were fresh?”

“I did,” Marcus replied with a nod.

“I want a copy.” Edward stated.

“Do I want to know what you’re going to do with those?” Harry asked slightly concerned.

“Never you mind, Little Raven.” Edward pat Harry’s head. “How seriously did he hurt you?”

“I was already sick when I arrived, but I managed - I guess I drew on some of your power. I needed to keep standing, you know? I needed to move forward.” He bowed his head. “I didn’t think I drew on you. I mean, I’ve always done that, Edward.” 

“Done what, Little Raven?” 

“Whenever something was bad, I’d draw on what you would do. Just mimic you. Like when that toddler went missing, and the scenes actually get to the point that they affect me. I always pull you into my mind. If only to keep upright. I’m so sorry.” 

“That’s enough of that. I gave it to you,” Edward growled, and Harry’s eyes fluttered when the man kissed him on the forehead. 

“I couldn’t let them see me weak.” 

Micah pushed in closer and Edward’s hand fell into his hair. “It’s okay. We were all there. I gave my energy to Edward so he could keep transferring to you.” 

“If I had known what I was doing…” 

“You wouldn’t have done it, and you’d have been drained completely. I won’t have that, Little Raven. I didn’t agree to this connection not knowing the consequences.” 

Micah was thoughtful for a moment. “Even burning him he kept hold of you?” 

“Not for long, but long enough that I wasn’t sure if it was working. That’s how out of it I was. It was to the point that Jason couldn’t even hear me even though I thought I was screaming. I had the good sense to send him outside when I smelled what was in the house. He’s come a long way. Probably faster than most non-Alpha wolves,” said Harry. “But, he didn’t need to be in there. I didn’t expect Dolph of all people.” He shook his head, and snuggled into Edward. “I thought I was screaming, but I don’t think I was. I thought he was going to push me onto the bed. He kept pushing me closer and closer to the evidence. Even his own men were horrified and trying to get him to release me. I don’t think they were happy with him.” 

Edward’s blank expression was dark. “I always say when good honorable men go bad, they tend to do so in the worst of ways.” 

“Jason informed me you haven’t eaten in a long time,” said Marcus. “I have someone bringing food. They should be here soon.”

“It wasn’t Jason’s fault. He was the perfect buddy and kept trying to get me to agree to eat. I just felt like anything I ate would not stay down,” said Harry. “I might not give him back to Jean.” 

Micah smirked. “I knew he would be.” 

“I don’t know. He makes me think of someone I would have had when I was younger at Hogwarts. A friend always at my side. Ron used to be that, but then I grew up and he didn’t. He’s not in trouble is he?” 

“No, Lupa. Jason is anything but in trouble,” Marcus promised as he leaned forward over Edward and kissed Harry’s forehead. 

“I’m surprised with all of us the ardeur hasn’t set in,” Micah grinned. “You’ve been out for two days.” 

“That might be my devil’s work,” said Harry. “I’m sure it’ll hit me when I least expect it.”

“I must admit I don’t understand,” said Marcus. “How could you have an enemy within you? Why do you talk about it as though it means something to you?” 

“It kind of does. I mean, Merlin knows, Lord Voldemort was my nightmare. But now, he’s part of my power. Part of my magic. He’s not physically in me. Just metaphysically. His magic is my magic, and you can’t hate your own magic, Marcus. I mean, I could, but then I’d end up like Richard, and no. Just no. I accept myself. I accept everything in me. I can’t change it, and I don’t think I’d want to. He’s made me stronger. He’s shaped me, and in the end, I forgave him. We have always been connected. So it’s like that dark side that you always cast away and never want to acknowledge it. You know that phrase? Better with the devil you know then the devil you don’t know. Look at Dolph? His dark side came out, and it controlled him. It’s on the brink of destroying him.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Micah muttered. “It will destroy his career if nothing else.” 

“If I am, then Edward is even more ridiculous.” 

Edward tilted his head. “Is that so, Little Raven?” 

“How do you think I accepted it so easily? I looked at you.  _ My _ teacher.” Harry kissed him on the chin, and Edward snorted. 

“I guess you might be right.” 

“He’s always there. Always a reminder. I’ll never forget what he’s done, but I can forgive because if I don’t, I end up like Dolph. If I don’t, I end up like everyone else consumed and destroyed for hating themselves. I control my power. It does not control me.” 

“Spoken like a Lupa.” 

“Like a Nimir-Ra.” 

“Like a Raven who knows how to fly.”

Harry smiled and he raised Edward’s thin tank top to reveal the lovely tattoo across his shoulder and chest. He pressed a kiss to it, and through that kiss, he could feel and taste the man’s heart beat. 


	8. Chapter Eight

“How you feeling, Little Hellcat?” Harry grunted when Bobby Lee swooped around him in a hug. 

“Better. Thank you for your help, Bobby.” 

“Don’t do that to us again. You had us frightened!” Bobby Lee moved back to his position as door guard.

Shang-Da, who had been guarding the door of the hospital with Bobby Lee, nodded. Nathaniel and his Pard members had all shown up. Nathaniel had brought a lot of food, and Dr. Lillian and Marcus had double checked everyone and their vitals for anything. 

“It’s ridiculous. You’re now in perfect health. You are remarkable Little Green Eyes. You must have an angel watching over you.” 

This made Harry laugh. “More like a devil I know.” 

“Satan incarnate,” Micah and Harry sat side by side at a table that had been conjured, their lovely Pard members dotted around them. Edward had gone to get in contact with Harlan. Marcus had gone with him to get the photographs of his arms. He was a bit nervous about what Edward had planned. When he got on a mission, nothing would stop him. He was after all Death. 

Harry was glad to have the light homemade chicken soup and fresh salad. He wasn’t sure if he could handle anything rump roast like after everything had happened. Or really any red meat. 

“So...Jason, huh?” Caleb asked as he stabbed a piece of chicken in his salad.

“What about Jason?” Harry asked as he sipped at the soup broth. It was great feeling the warmth flow down into him and spread to the rest of his body. Maybe he should have had Jason pick up soup before he got to the scenes after all.

“Why do the wolves get the honor of being chosen?” Zane snarled from his place by Caleb. While Harry and Micah were glad that their pards were meshing well, Harry really wished those two hadn’t formed a bond where they fed off of and encouraged each other. One troublemaker was enough thanks. 

“Because he is Lupa.” Shang-Da spoke up from the door.

“He was Nimir-Ra first.” Nathaniel pointed out before taking a bite of his own salad.

“Yah.” Viv spoke up. “And Nimir-Raj was his alpha first! So one of us should have been chosen.”

“Why didn’t you choose one of us?” Cherry asked Harry. Harry hunched down in his seat while bringing his bowl up higher as if trying to hide. 

“Enough.” Micah cut in before any others could speak up. He wrapped an arm around Harry’s form. “I’m the one that chose Jason for this job.”

“But Nimir-Raj…!”

“Surely not!”

“Why?”

“Are we not good enough?” The last statement coming from Gregory caused Harry to speak up. 

“I can’t pull from those I see as in my care.” He made sure to make eye contact with every one of the leopards. No matter how much this topic embarrassed him, he would not let his pard believe that they were lesser. “I have known Jason for years. He has been Jean’s Pomme all that time and is used to the feeling of being drained. It is not a slight to any of you that you weren’t chosen for the role. You are my kittens, no matter what. I am not suddenly more Lupa for having a wolf in this position.”

“Jason was chosen for many reasons, by agreement of Jean-Claude, Edward, Harry, and myself.” Micah rubbed Harry’s back. “One of the key reasons is that he is very much aware that he is on loan from Jean-Claude to Harry while we figure this out. This is not a permanent solution, and none of us want it to be. So, as a pard, you will deal with it. It’s not up for discussion and you aren’t to start any fights with the pack about it.” 

“Nor is the pack to start anything with the pard.” Harry added with a look at Shang-Da.

“As Lupa commands.” The Chinese were bowed in agreement. 

“I love all of you guys Pard and Pack equally, and you don’t need to be used anymore than you’ve already been.” 

“You know we wouldn’t have minded right? We all want you to take us!” said Nathaniel curling his arms around Harry and nuzzling him. 

“I know, but I can’t. Not unless it’s you who needs me.” He stroked Nathaniel’s wrist. “I am not Gabriel. I will not use this issue I have to take advantage of anyone. Even if it was consensual it would just be wrong.” 

“Still jealous,” Zane sulked. 

“Don’t be. It’s for your own good.” 

Anymore questioning was broken by the door opening, and Edward came through having changed his clothes. He was wearing a dark blood red turtleneck that stretched nicely over his broad shoulders, and a pair of black matching jeans that sat well on him. He had a bag in his hand, and dropped it. 

“Time to get pretty Little Raven. I’m taking you out for the afternoon,” he said, smirking. “Alpha, you can hold the kittens down, right?” 

Micah arched a brow. “ _ I’m _ curious as a kitten, what’s going on?” 

Edward smirked. “A surprise.” 

“Did you pick these out?” Harry asked, curiously taking the soft velvet bag. It had gold drawstrings that tied it together. 

“I may not be the Toy, but I do have taste.” 

For some reason that kind of excited Harry, and now he wondered where they were going? “Guess I’ll go get pretty. Have you eaten?” 

“Yes.” And shockingly, he thanked Nathaniel who glowed like a little boy. Yeah, choosing one of his kittens to feast on? Hell no!

Harry made use of the communal shower in the clinic, and once his teeth were brushed he pulled out the clothes that Edward of all people had chosen for him. 

Huh. It was not every day that Harry would wear white. Considering his lovers, his day job, and a child in the house even his quick cleaning charms had issues keeping up. Since when did he have white leather in his closet?

It was a pair of white leather skin tight trousers with silver stitching, and instead of buttons and a zipper on the front it was silver criss-cross drawstrings going up and over the crotch to tie at the top. They hung on his hips, and he’d had to use the silver thong in matching. 

So, this was Edward’s taste, hm? Kind of pure looking for something a sociopath would choose. He would have expected dark clothes, maybe something that wasn’t flashy? His boots had a two inch incline and they were a soft silver with gray and white fur coming out of the top. They were half calf, and felt warm and nice on his feet. 

It was finished with a soft silver and gray jumper with white wings on the back that climbed up over the shoulders. He’d never worn so much white in his life. He hadn’t expected it to be something in his color range. 

Now, he was very curious as to where he was going, and what they would be doing. Surely it wasn’t another date? He seemed like a man on a mission. 

A mission that involved him. Oh no, they weren’t going to the police station, were they? And wasn’t wearing white supposed to signal angelic or purity was it? His mind could get creative when it wanted. He sure hoped not! He wasn’t ready for the station so soon. 

He found that he was able to pull the torc down over top of the neck fold so that it sat sparkling in full view. 

_ Jean-Claude would be jealous, _ Harry thought.  _ Either that or proud of Edward. _ It all depended on the man’s mood. He knew that right now there were a hundred other things to worry about other than clothes, and the mysteries of one of his men. But, Harry had a life after all, and he wouldn’t put it on pause for a bunch of arses who didn’t matter to him. He would not stop living and wallow himself in a woe is me sort of pond. He was always the type to take things as they came. 

Harry might have giggled at his thoughts as he flicked at his wild hair, and allowed it to arrange itself in the way it wanted. Most of the shadows beneath his eyes had receded, and he actually had energy flowing through him for once. He never wanted to get that weak and tired again. Musette and Belle Morte were going to rue the day they tried to steal from him. They might not be able to kill them, but they could make an example out of them. 

He found a new belt sitting in the bag. It was a thick cloth gray to match. It had all his goodies attached. A lot of knives, some potions in tiny studded capsules that could be enlarged, and of course his gun. Edward had come to the conclusion that at least one gun on him at all times was a good idea, but he hadn’t bothered Harry about more than one. It was nice to finally have the man’s trust. A gun could come into play only when he had no other options. One trick ponies often died after all. 

He gathered his wands and placed them where they belonged. He did a quick spin in front of the mirror before nodding, and heading out. He admitted to still feeling quite the fatigue rolling through him. But at least he didn’t want to fall over. 

Edward was leaning against the conjured table holding Harry’s white leather jacket over his arm. He supposed he wouldn’t be wearing that new coat. He was dubiously suspicious as Micah cocked his head. 

“Not bad Edward. You’re really going to make Jean-Claude jealous, hm?” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” said Edward flatly looking Harry over. Harry had never seen empty so fiery before. 

“He looks good in white,” said Nathaniel, smiling. “You should wear it more often.” 

“With raising the undead, wrestling with all you, a vampire sweetie who likes to bite, and a child? I’m not sure if my whites would survive even my magic.” 

“Funny, how you insinuate that Teddy was the cleanest of us all,” said Zane grinning. 

“Isn’t he?” He cocked his head, and then turned to Edward who had not said a word. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.” He presented the jacket. “Come on, Little Raven. We have places to be.” 

“He’s scaring me,” Micah looked at their mate. 

“He should,” said Harry sliding into the jacket. 

“An interesting contrast,” said Cherry tilting her head. “Makes me think of yin and yang.” 

“Are we with you?” asked Shang-Da. 

“You’ll be driving behind, once we park, find a place one street over. No doubt there will be cameras,” said Edward, which brought out Harry’s suspicions further. 

“I’m with you,” said Bobby Lee. “Can’t leave you and the Little Hellcat without backup.” 

“Where is Jason?” he asked in concern. 

“He went to get some sleep at the house before nightfall,” Micah told him. “Hermione and Draco are taking care to make sure Jean-Claude and Damian don’t have any backlash effects from what had happened. Marcus went to get those photographs developed.” 

So they weren’t going to the station. Good to know, but that did not change the fact that they were going somewhere. Somewhere that there would be cameras, and he was wearing white. Edward slipped on a black leather trench coat, and Harry knew he only did that when he had something to hide. 

Harry kissed Micah, and as he passed all the Pard members he made sure he touched them all. He felt bad that they thought he preferred the wolves over them. He loved them all equally. 

“Issues with the kittens, Little Raven?” 

“They’re upset about Jason,” said Harry as Edward held the Escalade door open. 

“Let the Alpha handle it.” 

“Yep. I told them I loved them equally, and I just know Jason longer, and he knows that it wouldn’t be serious. All my pard...”

“-Are in love with you, Little Raven. You’ve got them wrapped around your finger,” Edward smirked. 

“Yeah, I don’t want them to end up hurt when I don’t need them anymore. Jason will always be my friend, and likely always be Jean-Claude’s pomme. They’re not really friends as much as my kids.”

Harry had a winded feeling, and Edward drove down many side streets, the F150 kept up quite well, two car lengths behind them. They ended up in part of downtown and Harry’s eyes fluttered as he stared out the window. 

“Hey, Little Raven, don’t go dead on me now like you did in New Mexico.” 

Harry turned and blinked a few times. “I’m not.” He shuffled forward, the middle console was still pushed up and he curled into Edward, swooping his feet behind him on the seat. “Just a bit tired. Where are we going?” 

Edward’s lip twitched, and Harry grumbled suspiciously when he didn’t answer, and instead dropped one arm around his shoulders. “You look good in white.” Harry pressed a kiss to his cheek, and slid along his jaw, and settled with his head on the man’s shoulder. “Did you have fun with the wolf?” 

“Yup. Jason is probably one of my favorites. Don’t tell the kittens,” he whispered as if they would hear him. 

“Good.” 

It was the City Hotel that they turned into, and Harry’s brows knitted together in memory of being there once before. It was likely the most boring nice hotel in the district. All rectangular, white, and easily forgettable. 

“What the-?” 

Edward said not a word as he parked. “Come on, Little Raven. Let’s go and have some fun.” 

Harry knew what Edward’s idea of fun is. “Should I  _ really _ be wearing white?” He slid out, and Harry followed on his driver’s side as Edward held it open for him. “No more movies right?” 

“No movies,” Edward confirmed, and the two walked side by side into the hotel, and toward the stairs that sat beside the elevators. 

Second floor, easy in and easy out, and closest to the stairs and one large window. Harry stood just behind Edward as the man tapped three times on the door. 

Harry had his hands tucked into his pockets, his heart thudding with anticipation on just who was on the other side. Just what the heck was going on, and then the door opened. Harry had to fight tooth and nail not to squeak or squawk or anything that would be embarrassing. 

Leo Harlan stood on the other side. 

Bloody Fucking Hell. 

Awkward was an understatement. It wasn’t like there was magic in the air, but there was a cold energy. It was heavy and it weighed down as Edward and Leo Harlan sat across from each other on dark brown armchairs. Neither of them were blinking. 

Harry for his part had plopped down onto the end of the double bed, silently cursing, and raving about the bloody hotel that had been twice cursed. 

“I am so never bloody coming back here,” said Harry breaking the silence. 

“You said you had business to discuss?” Harlan prompted. “I am not here to kill anyone.” 

“Yes you are,” said Edward. 

Harlan didn’t shift, but his plain brown eyes lit with a spark of empty interest. “Oh?” 

“I have something that might be interesting for someone of your talents. It shouldn’t be too much of a challenge.” 

“I thought you were here to slit my throat for encroaching.” His eyes flickered to Harry. “I’m not sure what happened…” 

“I am aware it was his fault entirely.” Harry couldn’t keep the blush off his face if he tried. “I am here because it is a perfect opportunity. Two child vampires entered the country not two days ago. In return for the fun you had, I wish for you to dispose of them, discreetly.” 

Harlan stared at him without a single shift in his expression. Edward’s eyes were just as empty, and it was making Harry squirm where he sat on the bed. “And you can’t do this job because-?” 

“I have other interests taking my attention.” 

“What is he?” asked Harlan. “Is he even human?” He turned to look at Harry. 

“I’m human!” Harry sulked. 

“He is entirely a Little Raven.” 

“But he’s in league with lycanthropes and vampires.” 

“Perhaps, but is that why you came to him? I thought you wanted your ancestor raised?” 

“Both of those are true,” said Harlan, not even flinching. “I do have an ancestor, I do want them raised. But, I think I will have to cancel that appointment.” 

Harry raised his head. “I can still do it for you! I saw your credit card payment. It would be rude not to do so.” 

Harlan tilted his head at Harry. “No. Unfortunately, they have what they want from you.” 

“They?” Edward leaned forward at this. “What are you talking about?” 

Instead of answering, Harlan rose. Edward’s finger twitched. “You will be interested. I give my word, though it means little most of the time. I am aware I overstepped the assassin’s code. There was to be no killing, that was the strict rules, but then they broke those rules. I do not like rules being broken. I’m going to turn my back. You can train your gun on me if you like. But I think you should see something. A movie.”

“I’m not watching any more films in this place!” Harry squawked causing Edward to chuckle humorlessly. “Not especially in a room with you two!” He crossed his arms over his chest, and jutted his lip out in a pout. 

“Settle down, Little Raven. I highly doubt it is as interesting as the feature film I had for us.” 

Harlan looked between the two of them, his face never changing. 

“Bloody hope not.” He was warm, and so he shrugged out of his jacket as Harlan did turn his back. 

Edward didn’t so much as move when Harlan fished in a bag and produced one of those new digital cameras that came with a cord. “I somehow anticipated your approach, Edward. I knew you would at least want to talk to me after what had occurred, and so I took the liberty of making sure I had an offer of something for you.” 

He plugged it into the flatscreen TV, and then turned it on, and Harry blinked when the recording turned on, and he saw that it was a waist high recording. He leaned closer, and his eyes widened when he saw himself, Micah, and Noah at Lindel Cemetery. 

Edward’s eyes narrowed, and he never spoke as Harlan stepped out of their light. 

Micah and Noah had stepped aside, and Harry was going through the routine of raising the dead. He didn’t use a chicken or any of that, and when Gordon Bennington came out of the ground, Harlan set it on pause, freezing the frame. 

“Perfect. He looks as if he never died,” said Harlan. “Not to mention. You used no sacrifice except for your own blood.” 

“You’re here to watch him?” Edward’s face didn’t shift, but his eyes flickered. “Why?” 

“A mission recruitment, the ones who recorded this had planned to send it overseas. It was about a year and a half ago when Mr. Potter-Black’s name got flagged in Interpol. There are a lot of things that can be done with his talents, and with how realistic this zombie is…” 

“That isn’t going to happen,” said Edward, and for the first time since they arrived, Harry could taste Death in the back of his throat. 

“No, I don’t suppose it is. That's why I took it.” 

“Is this the only copy?” 

“Yes. They broke the code. So I broke their chance,” said Harlan. 

“How did they break the code?” 

“We were sent to observe and capture information, and that was all. There were rumors floating around that Mr. Potter-Black was never seen raising the dead during a full moon, and we have it on good faith that not a few months ago he was cut up badly by a shifter. So, we on the mission detail had dragged in our own shifter in case he got out of control.” 

“Who ordered this?” asked Edward tightly. 

“Don’t know. Black Orders.” 

Black Orders, as far as Harry could tell, were elite military orders sent to professional assassins from time to time. Almost all of them were mandatory should one end up in their hands. Not many knew who was behind the Black Orders. Most assassins had never even heard of them, and the only reason Harry knew was because Manny had mentioned it once before. It could be the President of the United States or the Prime Minister, and even the Queen of England. It was an order that went through hundreds of discreet channels before landing in the hands of the one intended. Most of them came with a large sum of money, and explicit instructions. 

“You can’t refuse Black Orders.” 

“You can refuse them if they break the rules,” Harlan replied succinctly. “The rules were clear. Under no circumstances were we to cause an incident in St. Louis.” 

Harry’s mind began to speed up. “The first murder. The execution.” 

Harlan turned to Harry. “Yes.” 

“The first murder was one of yours,” said Edward. 

“Correct. They can’t afford to kill me. Harry Potter-Black has already seen me. After what happened in New Mexico, a lot of eyes began to turn his way.” 

Harry remembered Agent Bradley Bradford making mentions of it, and he resisted wincing. He forgot to tell Edward about it. He leaned forward with a sigh. 

Edward tilted his head. “You knew?” 

Harry huffed. “How do you do that?” 

“Gifted.” 

“When we were at that last scene in New Mexico before the hospital incident.” He didn’t want to say Bradford’s name yet, but Edward knew exactly who told him. “But, I forgot with all that happened directly afterwards nor did I really take it seriously.” 

“You should have. If this gets back. You may be recruited,” said Harlan. 

“It’s not going to get back is it?” Edward looked at Harlan. 

“No. As I said, they broke the code. This was to be rush delivered back to the originators' hands. But I relieved it.” Harry could not honestly tell if he was lying or not, but his gut told him that he wasn’t. Harlan was honest. He took out the sim card, and handed it over to Edward. “Now, tell me about these vampires. Why are you not taking care of them?” Harlan resumed his seat. “Aren’t you the Equalizer, Harry Potter-Black?” Edward made to speak, but Harlan raised a hand. “I want to hear him, Edward. If you don’t mind.” 

Edward went slack, and Harry shifted at this when both sets of eyes landed on him. Oh boy. What did he say? Edward wouldn’t want him to say too much, but considering Harlan hadn’t lied to them, and Harry did feel kind of guilty for forcing this man into an unintentional sexcapade. “Vampire politics.” Edward’s face never changed, and he didn’t seem annoyed. 

Yet. 

“Oh?” Harlan drew out the  _ oh _ .

“We could do it, but it would cause more trouble than it’s worth. You can think of it as Black Orders in the vampire world. If I were to do it, it would be seen as treason.” 

“And these children are trouble?” 

“In a nutshell. One is no more than eight, and the other is around eleven, and the main vampire that has come has a human snack that is no older than fifteen. The Master of the City cannot make a move against them. We’re not asking you to kill her.”

“Why?” 

“Bloodlines.” 

“Little Raven…” Edward warned. 

Harry sighed. “He’ll figure it out either way, Edward. He’s not stupid.”

“Interesting,” said Harlan with a tap of his fingers on the arm of the chair. “How old are they?” 

“Old, over five hundred at least.” 

“Challenging,” said Harlan. 

“We figure if something were to happen on their way back home then it would make them hesitate to return for a visit,” said Edward. “And with us still in St. Louis there would be no tie to either of us.” 

“We did give them a warning that Brewster’s Law allowed instant execution of child vampires below the age of sixteen,” said Harry. 

“You will give me key details? I’d rather not be led into something that will see my life running short.” 

“You’ll get everything,” said Edward. “Including the entirety of the entourage. It would be most beneficial to keep you alive, Harlan. My Little Raven rather likes you.” 

“Edward!” Harry sulked trying not to turn red. 

“Did you not have fun?” Edward asked loftily. 

“You have an interesting lover, Edward,” said Harlan with a small empty smirk. 

Harry’s skin prickled, and he slowly took in a breath. “Bastards, all of you!” 

“Indeed.” 

“He is not us,” said Harlan then, dropping the smirk. “He is unspoiled. How is that?” 

“You got me.” 

Harry had no idea what they were on about now. He was too tomato red to care. He did not like being teased by two sociopaths. He was squirming now as they both kept their eyes on him. Geez. 

“You guys should not be allowed to have this much fun at my expense!” Harry huffed. 

“Who is responsible?” asked Edward. 

“Van Anders.” 

“He’s in town?” Edward double checked carefully. 

“Yes,” said Harlan, and his voice showed a hint of disgust. A bare hint. 

“Did they not realize his… penchant?” 

“I suppose they thought he could control himself. It seems he can’t.” 

“I’m not a shifter,” said Harry. He just had a couple in him. “If you look back in history no Necromancer has ever been a shifter.” 

Harlan cocked his head. “But you have a unique kind of magic on you.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I am a Necromancer.” 

“Then why? Why are you off on full moons?” 

Edward was watching Harry very carefully for his answers.

“Just because I’m not a shifter, doesn’t mean I don’t have friends, Harlan. I have people I take care of, simple as that.” 

“He really isn’t us,” said Harlan, not changing expressions. 

“No, Harlan. He is not.” 

“Looks like a new opportunity has come along,” said Harlan. “Interesting. Give me what you can.” 

“You can bring anyone along with you if you think it’ll be easier. I have no doubt it may be a challenge.” 

“I like challenges, and it’s been awhile since I’ve played with a vampire. I shouldn’t let myself get rusty after all, and I do owe Death for borrowing his delectable little angel.”

Harry’s face flushed even brighter, and he cursed quietly as both Edward and Harlan stared at him as though they were looking through him. “Evil bastards,” he repeated not for the first time in his life.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure about all of you, but we're not getting comment notifications until 8-13 hours after they're made. Hope you are getting email notifications of new chapters sooner than we get comment notifications. :/

On their way out, Harlan and Edward exchanged more details, and he was soon being guided down the stairs, and neither spoke until they were comfortably sitting in the Escalade. “Explain.” 

“Which?” Harry asked. 

“Bradford and recruitment.” 

Harry sighed, and shifted closer. “Heater, please? I’m getting cold again.” 

Edward turned on the engine, and blasted some heat. Harry shivered as he ran his fingers over the vents when the heat turned extra warm. “Bradford wanted to offer me a job with the FBI, and so he pulled my file, and people noticed. It got flagged, and began to move higher up the food chain. He told me at great risk to his own career about it. He warned me against Olaf.” 

“He knows Olaf?” 

“He knows he’s a blackout. Bradford is a smart man,” said Harry. “He wanted to let me know that someone might find interest in me. He had no idea where it went. But he was apologizing to me for it. It honestly slipped my mind. So much going on in New Mexico. Just didn’t seem important or relevant in the slightest. Sorry about that. I’m always apologizing, it seems.” 

Edward smirked. “Good thing I know you’re sorry, and considering you about died, I think I can make an exception. Do you know who recorded you? I didn’t dare ask for more names. He could get himself killed, and what use would he be if he were killed?” 

Harry frowned. “I don’t know. There were so many people there that day. Lawyers, judges, bodyguards…” he looked at Edward. “Balfour and someone named Rex Caducci. I doubt that’s their actual names. They were the lawyers bodyguards.” 

“Why were there bodyguards?” asked Edward. 

“Mrs. Bennington is the literal definition of what Bobby Lee calls me. She slugged the lawyer, and landed him on his arse. He was terrified of her. You know how crooked law firms are. They didn’t want to pay what she was owed, and he accused her of being a gold digger, when they’d been married for twenty-five years! Merlin, even a sociopath could see their love at the graveside. She might have been a wicked bitch of the west, but there was no doubt what her feelings were when she saw her husband.” 

“Teddy needs to stop watching The Wizard of Oz.” 

“Tell that to Draco, and besides I don’t want to insult my fellow witches and wizards. I didn’t like her, but she did have the right to the will.” 

“How did the guy die?” 

“Oh man, rookie mistake. He was the one who fell down the steps of his basement holding a loaded shotgun. Remember the pictures I showed you?” 

Edward’s flat expression had Harry bursting into a gaggle of giggles until he was almost crying. He fell back and continued to giggle until he was winded. He squeaked undignified when Edward pulled him, and gripped his cheeks to stare into his eyes that were almost in tears. “Is there any way to make your zombies look like zombies, Little Raven?” 

Harry sobered. “I don’t know. They’ve been getting better and better.” 

“What if you use an animal sacrifice?” 

“Just as good,” said Harry. “It’s why I’ve been getting so many celebrity requests.” He shook his head at this. “I guess I could subtly do magic on them. But, it would have to be perfect timing because usually there’s a crowd watching and waiting. You’ve seen a raising, the earth parts and they immediately come out. Only a few times do they drag themselves out of the earth. They’ve gotten better since I raised Bloody Bones. When I fell into Death’s Realm, I think my magic or something locked onto who they really are.” 

“I suppose you really are Death’s servant,” Edward drawled. “You’ll have to take care from here on when you raise.” 

“I can scramble cameras,” said Harry. 

“That’ll have to do.” Edward let go, and Harry snuggled down against him as the man drove out of the hotel. “Did you have fun?” 

“ _ Edward! _ ” His voice got so high that it wouldn’t be surprising if Bobby and Shang-Da heard him. “Take me through a drive-thru please? I’m hungry again.” 

“Good. Glad your ardeur didn’t unleash.” 

Harry shook his head morosely. “So much for small favors. I can’t handle more than one assassin.”

“You sure about that? You just haven’t tried, Little Raven.” 

Harry made a noise. “Who is Van Anders?” He desperately wanted to change the topic. 

“I don’t know much about him. But I know he is the Olaf of shifters.” 

Harry sagged down. “Would you know his work if you saw it?” 

“Maybe. I’ve never ran across him.” 

“He’s alive. Of course you haven’t.” Edward smirked. “But, I don’t want to show you that memory. No need to kill Dolph.” 

“Now I want to see it.” 

Harry cringed as Edward whipped into a drive-thru of McDonalds. It was unhealthy, but it would do, and he ate his nuggets in the car on the way home.

It was only an hour later, and Harry thought his men were going to shoot a wall, especially Edward as they were head first in Harry’s memories. Micah, Marcus, and Edward. It was still early and Jean-Claude and Damian were still down. Teddy was in school. Only a few more days until the winter holidays. 

He was still sipping on his chocolate shake with extra cherries when they pulled out. Micah got to him first. Marcus and Edward looked as though they wanted to trash a room. Harry had thought he’d seen Edward’s death face. It was blank, cold, and nothing. But this went beyond that right into Death’s realm. Marcus’ eyes had nearly turned green-yellow, and he could feel the shifter energy push and pull as Micah pulled him. 

“I have a few calls to make. I want you two with me,” said Edward sharply. 

“Whatever you need,” said Marcus. 

Micah nodded. “Definitely.” 

“Please, don’t kill Dolph,” Harry pleaded. 

Edward looked at him. “Little Raven…” 

“Please?” He tried weakly. 

“Just ruin him,” said Marcus. 

Harry cringed. He really didn’t want them to do this, but the look on their faces, told him that he should be glad they were thinking of something other than death. Harry could barely remember what had happened, it was all a blur. So looking at it from a third person view must have been bad. 

Micah didn’t say a word. Just kissed, and nuzzled at Harry who offered some of his shake. “Can I have a cherry?” 

“Mhmm.” Harry pulled one out of the chocolate and whipped cream. 

“Why shouldn’t we kill him?” asked Edward. 

“Because they could try to link it to the wolves,” said Harry sadly. “What with Jason there, and him having taken me out of the house. He also saw Shang-Da who pulled up to get me. You can do whatever else you want to do. Just don’t kill him. He’s - having a hard time right now.” 

“He snapped completely. Someone like that does not need to be in charge,” said Micah harshly. “I don’t want you near him!” 

“He’s never done that before.” 

“I can’t let this go, and we need in on that case,” said Edward. “I have a card I can play. But I will need that evidence of Little Raven’s bruises, and your assistance.” 

“You got it.” 

Edward frowned. “I don’t like leaving you here. I’m not sure how long we’ll be.” 

“Give me Shang-Da and Bobby.” 

“I think a taste of bureaucracy would be in his best interest,” said Marcus. “Kill him through his job.” 

“If only we can turn that into a video recording,” said Micah, taking a sip of Harry’s shake. 

“It won’t work because of the magic. It fries every time,” said Harry. “I promise I’ll have someone with me. Do what you have to do? I think I’ll call Zerbrowski. See what I can get on their end.”

All three of his men enraptured him with deep possessive kisses that left him almost floaty. Edward gripped his cheek hard, and pressed a kiss to the scar on his forehead before turning and walking out. 

“Be good, Nimir-Ra.” Micah purred against him. “Or should I change your name to Angel?” 

Harry blushed. “I like Nimir-Ra.” 

“I bet that assassin wanted to eat you again.” 

“Not with Edward there. I think he was quite positively terrified of Edward, though he did well not showing it.” 

“Everyone’s scared of Edward. We love you.” 

“Love you all too.” 

How could he not? They were everything to him. 

oOo

He thought about crawling into bed and sleeping for two hours before Teddy returned. Hermione and Draco were in the library, and Harry was flat-out exhausted. He was so tired that he hadn’t taken off his coat yet. He was just chucking it off when his cell phone began to ring. 

He thought it was one of his men, Edward was always switching phones. “Hello?” 

“Harry!” 

It took about five seconds of his own silence to pinpoint the voice. “Sergeant Zerbrowski,” he said in realization. 

“You’re okay?” 

“Mhmm, I’m fine.” 

“I heard what happened. My God, I’m so sorry, I never expected…” 

“That makes two of us,” said Harry when Zerbrowski couldn’t even finish, his voice cracking like he was thirteen. “Another scene?” 

“No, I called to talk to you. As a friend, Harry. Can we meet up and chat?” 

Harry didn’t want to. He was still hurt, but if he wanted to get back on the case. He would have to play nice. “I can’t be alone right now. If we talk, I have to bring someone with me.” 

“That’s fine. Jason?” 

“Probably. If he’s awake. If not it’ll be someone else.” 

“That’s fine. I understand you’re less than trusting right now.” 

“Trust has nothing to do with it. More like safety and a promise to way too many people, and I don’t want my arse kicked.” 

“Right. It’s good to hear your voice. When I heard what happened…” 

“That’s enough. We can talk about that later. Where am I going?” 

“Meet at Mabels?” 

He wasn’t really hungry. He’d just had chicken nuggets, but he could use a blackberry pie. It wouldn’t be long before Jean-Claude woke for the night. “Sure. Meet there?” 

“Why don’t you come and get me?” 

“Where are you?” 

“At the station. It’s been a long day.” 

“I’m not going in,” he said flatly. 

“No. I’ll be waiting outside.” 

“Okay. Be there in about twenty minutes.” 

“ _ Great! _ ” Zerbrowski sounded relieved. 

Harry hung up, and closed the phone with a snap. He sighed, and scooped his coat off the edge of the bed. He was surprised to see Jason up and around, and standing by his door. 

“I heard that detective, the nicer one.” 

“Eavesdropper,” Harry grumbled. Jason grinned, and then scooped Harry into his arms. “Oi!” 

“So glad you’re okay, Lupa!” He squeezed him so hard that if Harry was anyone else, he might have broken. 

“Ulgh, I won’t be if you crack my spine!” 

Jason laughed and sat him back down. “Where are we going?” 

“If I want to stay in this case, I have to talk to someone, and Zerbrowski is a good guy. Edward and them took off to do Merlin knows what. I showed them the memory of Dolph, and they were none too happy.”

Jason frowned. “I can only imagine.” 

“Is Asher still here?” 

“Yes, he’s in Draco’s room.” 

That was good, he didn’t need to deal with anymore drama on the vampire front. If all of the important ones were there that’s all that mattered. “Good, let him stay there.” 

He found Bobby Lee and Shang-Da downstairs, both were immediately on their feet. 

“Going out, Little Hellcat?” 

“Yes. I need to stay on this case.” 

“Ulfric updated us,” said Shang-Da with a nod. “Errant shifter in town. We can’t have that.” 

“No, you really cannot,” said Harry darkly. “Have you both eaten and rested?” 

“Don’t you worry about us, hellcat, we’re well fed around here,” said Bobby grinning. 

Harry laughed. “Good. We are going to Mabels, so if you do want to eat more you can!” 

“Good thing I run it off.”

Harry ran downstairs to check on the two men lying side by side on the crimson silk sheets. Damian’s basement was really decked out. It was done in tones of deep silk red and various creamy textures. Both of them looked lovely lying on their backs so peaceful. He kissed them both on the forehead before heading back upstairs, and tossing Jason the keys. 

Hermione promised to get Teddy off the bus. “Please be careful.” 

“I promise, but I have to stay on this case.” 

“We’ll continue monitoring Damian and Jean-Claude,” said Draco. 

Bobby Lee and Shang-Da were waiting for him in the car with Jason when Caleb came shuffling over. “Nimir-Ra, can I please come with you?” he asked softly. 

Harry’s first instinct was to say no, if only on reflex, but the unsure look on his face had Harry caving. He was once again choosing wolves over his leopards. “Sure, Caleb. You ride in the front with Jason.” He stroked the submissive on the cheek making the man brighten. 

Caleb was only a couple years younger than Harry. He had soft curly brown hair, equally brown eyes, and a couple piercings attached to his eyebrows, not to mention his earrings. Harry had asked him not to use silver that he used to. He told Caleb that he didn’t want younger members that might come into the Pard think that’s what they should be doing. Yeah, a little bit of manipulation, but what else could he do? He also had his nipples and navel pierced, and other parts of his body. 

A lot of his Pard liked to run around naked, no care at all for what they were wearing or not. Harry was used to it, but seeing a piercing down there tended to make Harry question all reasoning in his life. Caleb had called it a Prince Albert.  _ Yeah, no _ .

Caleb was dressed this time. A hot pink long sleeve that looked good on his tanned frame, and a pair of relaxed blue jeans. He didn’t bother with a coat as they headed out to the Escalade waiting for them. 

Harry slipped in behind Jason, and Caleb, so pleased with himself to be going with Harry, had happily taken the passenger seat. 

“Where we going?” asked Jason, pulling out of the long winding driveway. It would need to be graveled again soon. Normally a good gravel lay lasted years, but Harry had people coming and going at all hours of the day and night. He thought briefly about paving the whole drive, but then it wouldn’t look as good. His house was old, and even he knew that blacktop would just look weird in front of the well-aged gray stone. Maybe there was a spell they could use that could preserve the gravel for longer?

“I’m picking Zerbrowski up at the police station.” 

It took about fifteen minutes before they arrived in front to see Zerbrowski as messy as he ever was standing on the edge of the curb. Harry waved his hand letting the back open, and Zerbrowski gave him that boyish smile, and moved forward. 

“Riding in style are we, Harry?” 

“You can say that,” said Harry as Zerbrowski slipped in. 

“Caleb right?” 

“Yes sir,” said Caleb peeking around at Zerbrowski. 

“Nice to see you again, Jason.” 

“You too, detective,” said Jason cheerfully. 

Zerbrowski turned and looked Harry over. “You look much better than I last saw you.” 

“I hope so.” 

“Detective Perry and Merlioni were trying to find out which hospital you went to.” 

“A magical one,” said Harry, not wanting to mention the shifter clinic. 

“Dr. Fletcher is a wizard?” 

“No, but he’s been specialized since he learned that I’m a wizard. Sometimes things happen to us that make no sense to a normal person.” 

“Like what?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Magical exhaustion. I could be knocked out and in a temporary coma with nothing wrong with me for days, but because my magic is so low it freezes my body. It prevents me from waking. That’s what happened last time when you called me and Shang-Da turned off the phone. There are also some viruses that attack my magic directly. It’s like a blood virus, but it’s dragonpox or some other ailment.”

“Dragonpox?” 

“Yes, but I only have about a thirty percent chance? Purebloods have a sixty percent chance of developing it. Half-bloods thirty, and Muggleborns almost never get it. It’s genetic. It’s called dragonpox because it can turn the skin green like the Common Welsh Green.” 

“Common Welsh Green?” 

“Dragon. It’s green.”

“I’ve learned a lot suddenly, I feel like I should write this down.” 

“I can get you a book. All of these are entirely magic related, in the blood and connected to our core. So normal humans can’t get it.” 

“Does that mean you have an immunity to some normal common illnesses?” 

“Yes and no. Sexually transmitted diseases for one are impossible to get. Our magic automatically reacts like a barrier to kill whatever goes in our system that is toxic, usually. There are exceptions. Always are where things are concerned. But we can have heart attacks, and as for cancers? It all depends on where it is.”

Being a Friday night, they were stuck in downtown traffic, the streetlights blazing, and the cars sitting on either side. It delved into a silence. Caleb and Jason keeping their eyes forward, and Zerbrowski sighing. 

“Harry, I want to apologize.” 

“What for? You didn’t make Dolph do anything he wasn’t willing to do.” 

Zerbrowski winced and adjusted his rimmed glasses. “That’s not what I’m sorry for, and when I explained to Katie what happened, she hit me over the head.” He rubbed the back of his head in question, and Harry resisted snorting. 

“Least someone actually likes me.” 

“She loves you, Harry. She was quite emphatic about it. You are on our list of emergency contacts for our kids after all.” Harry knew ever since the Elvira Drew shifter incident that he had become one of Katie’s favorite people. Katie had been convinced that if he hadn’t been there with his special gifts, Zerbrowski would have been dead or worse, completely paralyzed as the creature had gotten close to Zerbrowski’s spine before Harry got it off him. 

“It’s fine, Zerbrowski. I understand. You couldn’t not have your Lieutenant, and I’m not really a part of the squad. So it makes sense.” 

“Not really. I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately.” Harry knew, but he hadn’t realized it had gotten so out of hand. What was the big deal about a vampire and his son? So the idea of having children was reduced. At least ones by blood. Harry thought it was downright petty if he were honest. It was selfish and petty, and even if they could have children that wasn’t to say that they would. What if Darrin didn’t want kids? What if he didn’t like them? What then? It wouldn’t matter then if they could or could not. “You’re just as much a part of the squad as anyone else. You’ve saved all our lives, and if it wasn’t for you most of us would still be spinning our heads on half the cases we’ve covered. We’d have no direction whatsoever, and all of them know it.” He bowed his head and laced his fingers together. “I can’t really talk about the case with your friends in the car.” 

“I can tell you for a fact that the shifter responsible was no one who belongs in St. Louis.” 

“How can you be sure?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“They don’t smell like us,” said Jason instead of Harry, surprising the detective.

“Smell?” 

“Each group as a whole has a distinctive smell and energy feel to them,” said Harry for Zerbrowski. “It’s like the smell of an apple and the smell of an orange. All of the wolves in St. Louis smell like their leader, smell like each other. A pack scent that identifies them even if you might not recognize their faces. The leader is not just a title. He or she can force the shifter to transform in and out at any time. All those weaker to the leader. All those in his grasp. So he has their imprint in them all.” 

“Does this work for all groups?” asked Zerbrowski. “I should write this down.” 

“Most groups I know of, yes.” 

“When I went in to get Harry, I smelled something that didn’t belong. Someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. Someone that crossed into our territory. It was a wolf’s scent, but not the pack.” 

“I can’t use that as evidence, but I believe you,” said Zerbrowski. “Do you think it’s connected to the first? It doesn’t look it.”

“Jason?” Harry knew it did, but how did he tell Zerbrowski this? He didn’t have any evidence. 

“I don’t know, you didn’t let me in, remember?” said Jason. 

“Now I wish I had,” Zerbrowski muttered. “If they’re connected, but I just don’t see how.” 

Harry tapped his chin. “I think they are connected. I have no evidence, but I think they can’t be treated separately if only because of the timing.” 

Zerbrowski nodded. “Yes, my thoughts exactly.” Jason finally pulled into Mabels and Zerbrowski’s brows twitched. “You know you’re being followed right?” 

“Yes,” said Harry. “Jason, you and Caleb go on in and get us a table.” 

Harry handed Jason his card, and the two of them hopped out, and not long after Shang-Da and Bobby Lee entered the restaurant leaving Zerbrowski and him entirely alone. He didn’t flinch when Zerbrowski touched him on the shoulder. He turned to stare at the man.

“I’m not a shifter,” he told Zerbrowski. 

“I know.” And Zerbrowski reached into his pocket. “I did my own research. I was hoping to show this to Dolph to get him to lighten up. But after he ran through Reynolds, and the way he treated her…” He sighed heavily. 

“What did he do?” 

“Enough to send her on leave. She’s three months pregnant, and can’t handle that kind of stress.” 

Harry swore. “Larry’s?” 

“Yup. You didn’t know?” 

“It’s been busy,” said Harry. 

Zerbrowski withdrew some printout papers from the internet. “I was doing research into animators. So far no animators have ever been found to be shifters. Don’t think I didn’t catch Jason’s slip. He called you Lupa. I’ve heard him. I also looked that term up. It means second to the leader, who is the Ulfric, right?” His tone wasn’t accusing. It was more curious than anything. “Honestly, I wouldn’t care if you were. It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does to some people. You do know if you had even one shifter or even a vampire on the taskforce, that your job would be so much easier.” 

“You’ve wanted to say that for a long time haven’t you?” asked Zerbrowski, smirking. 

“Does it not make sense? Just because there are Jeffrey Dahmer’s out there doesn’t mean we stop humans from doing their police work, and are you telling me Dead Dave deserved what happened to him? He was a veteran, a dedicated officer. I’m not saying that vampires and shifters are harmless dolls and puppies. Merlin no!” He shook his head. “There are monsters of every flavor from human to vampire to shifter. It does not matter what coat it wears, and so far everything that has happened in the last few years has either been small enough not to make us want to throw up and easily fixable or it’s been an outside influence. I can give you a wizard’s oath that not a single wolf, leopard, or rat in all of St. Louis would ever do what I saw in that house.” 

“Are you the pack’s leader?” asked Zerbrowski boldly. “And the rats? And the leopards? How is that possible? You’re not a shifter.” 

“I… it’s complicated,” said Harry struggling with words. 

“Then explain it to me. Please.” 

“So you can wind up like Dolph?” Harry asked, frowning. “I tried to help him. I tried to explain to him as much as I could. I have always done my best to be as honest as I could, and to make sure everything is legal.” 

“Dolph thinks the MACUSA hands out executions like candy and it’s just an excuse to kill,” said Zerbrowski somberly. 

Harry snorted. “If I was anyone else, the MACUSA would not have answered my requests. They would have poked and prodded and demanded upfront evidence, but because of who I am, they give me a lot of leeway. When I say there is something dangerous, they don’t question it.” 

“That’s what Auror Barker said. I’ve had some talks with him,” said Zerbrowski. “So, explain it to me. Please, I want to know. I want to learn, Harry. I want you to tell me.” 

Harry knew they likely weren’t going to eat anything tonight, Zerbrowski just wanted to talk. He sagged back and raised his head to the ceiling of the Escalade. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. Just did. How do you say no when someone needs you? Someone calls out for you? When someone begs for your help. Maybe not in words, but their actions. It all started with… Nikolaos.” 

“Who is that?” 

“She was the former Master of the City,” said Harry carefully. 

Zerbrowski arched a brow. “She’s not anymore. So she is dead? Did you kill her?” 

“No. But I lead the way,” he confessed. 

“I have no evidence. I bet she wouldn’t even be on file.” 

“No.” 

“Nothing I can do. I am not speaking as a cop or a detective. I’m asking as a friend.” 

“I met the wererats first. One of them saved my life, and in turn I saved them. I told you once that some vampires have animals to call, right?” Zerbrowski nodded. “Nikolaos’ animal to call was Rats. The Leader of the Rats could ignore her call, but he couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t make moves against her. I freed him of her. I freed them all, and we became friends. I do not run the Rats. I don’t need to. Their King is more than enough. One of the best men I’ve ever met.” 

“One of your lovers?” 

“No!” Harry shook his head. “He’s like the big brother.” Not making mentions of the one time. “I then met the wolves and then the leopards. I became the leopards’ caretaker after their leader disappeared.” 

“Disappeared?” 

“No idea where he went.” And that was very true because he was eaten, and by who, Harry had no clue. “What I do know was that he was a leader of sadism. His entire Pard was broken. All of them were submissives. He killed any Alpha that tried to rise.” 

“Why?” 

“So he wasn’t contested? He wasn’t the strongest leader, but he was ruthless. He was terrifying. He wouldn’t let them have normal jobs. He wouldn’t let them have their license or even live properly. Most of them were sexually abused before they’d turned eighteen. They were a wreck.” 

“So, you adopted them?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“And the wolves?” 

“Their original Lupa was much like the leader of the Pard.” 

“Let me guess, she disappeared too?” 

“Yep.” 

Zerbrowski sighed. “Harry…” 

“The humans could never understand preternatural politics, Zerbrowski. She was one sick puppy, and whatever happened to her happened because of what she’d done. Let me paint a quick picture. All shifters heal exponentially fast, they can sustain damage that most humans couldn’t even survive. She would routinely use her body and bloodlust against them, she castrated many because they could heal. She did it because it turned her on, Zerbrowski. She did it because it was what got her off.” Zerbrowski had a glimmer of horror. “She hurt them. She forced them to do things that would see a normal human torn up in prison over. She dominated them into a sadism that resulted in them being forever damaged and forever needing some sort of outlet.” 

“And that’s why they ended up in that club? That’s why they ended up hurt and in the hospital with such wounds?” Zerbrowski looked faint. “Where was the leader in this?” 

“He was powerless because of what she was and what she was doing, and because I had a few people I cared about in the pack I couldn’t just stand by and let them be hurt. I offered my protection, accidentally proving that even though I was not a shifter, I was dominant enough. It put me in a position I didn’t expect. It was her that put the hit out on me. It was her that sent assassins to an elementary school.” 

Zerbrowski sat up straight at this. “You should have told us.” 

“How? When Dolph was accusing me of killing Robert? When Dolph was raging at the station? When could I do this, Zerbrowski? How could I trust when he was accusing me of things? I went out of my way to include him and the team when I went after those ancient vampires because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it was something I should do, but because I’m tough and because I don’t die easily, Dolph started looking at me with suspicion! After that, how could I trust any of you with something so sensitive? I could mention warrants. I could mention getting orders of executions for the things I’ve done, but what would it matter?” He hadn’t. But he could use that as a reference. Harry used could and not did so it wasn’t a lie. A half-truth. He liked Zerbrowski. He wanted the man to understand. 

Zerbrowski took off his glasses, and tried to rub them clean. “Even if you had, we’d have insisted on being involved, and that’s just not the way it works is it?” 

“No, it doesn’t. Anyway, the point is, I ended up adopting both sets. It’s not normal. It’s not typical. Humans don’t usually mix with them. But, I’m just the pain in the arse who can’t stand to see anyone suffering. They all became mine.” 

“And how does your vampire lover fit into this?” 

“He has wolves to call,” said Harry. “But, it’s a bit more complicated. However, I will tell you if I thought he was even remotely monstrous, I wouldn’t have given him the time of day. Ruthless when needed? Yes. You’ve seen some things that vampires can do when they’re not kept in check. But, he’s probably the most fair Master of the City I’ve ever met, and by now I’ve met a few of them. New vampires run entirely on instincts and newfound power and skills that they do not understand. They have to be reigned in by a master to keep from running rampant. Some become so ingrained in their power that they see nothing but their own desires in front of them. Jean-Claude’s dream was to be free of all masters that had hold of him. His dream was to bring the community together so that they could live and not just survive. After so many centuries, he is one of few that has held onto a shred of humanity that makes him who he is. If he can even impress the world’s most notorious Bounty Hunter, then you know you have something good. Jean and I formed a bond. ” 

“Bond?” 

“A magical sort of bond. It’s hard to explain.” Harry bowed his head. “I never came to St. Louis and thought, hey why don’t I start sleeping with all the hotties out there.” Zerbrowski burst out laughing, and all serious business had suddenly dissolved. “But, they mean everything to me. I will always do my best to do what is right by those I call friends and family. I don’t care what coat they wear. I’m not one of those who think vampires are human or vampires are harmless. I’m not one of those who believes that everyone is good. I believe in individual good and individual evil. I’ve met some maniacal vampires, and a few have truly terrified me. But, I’ve also met my share of humans who were so bad that there’s a reason there are people with t-shirts running around saying I Hate People or I Hate Humanity or some such. It’s on keychains and mugs these days. There is a reason for that. I mean as far as I know Ted Bundy wasn’t a vampire or a were. All the wars we’ve had weren’t instigated by vampires or weres, and those awful bleeding hate groups you know, the ones who terrorize everyone? Not vampires and weres.” 

“You’ve made your point. I’m not Dolph. I do see both sides. Sometimes it is hard,” Zerbrowski agreed. 

“But then, when vampires go bad they tend to do so in a more personal capacity. They have one goal and one goal only when they go bad. Only reason you might not notice is because the one rule they all often live by.” 

“What is that?” 

“Don’t get noticed. So their targets are typically smaller.” 

It was quiet between the two of them, and Harry shivered as he hunkered down into his jacket. He looked over at the restaurant to see Jason and Caleb, he noted that Bobby Lee and Shang-Da were standing outside on each side of the doors, staring at their car. A good enough distance so they weren’t eavesdropping, but close enough in case anything happened. 

“How many terrifying nightmares have crossed over into St. Louis that you’ve chased away?” asked Zerbrowski softly. 

“Many, and they are the type of nightmares that would see St. Louis annihilated. Hell, all of Missouri would no longer exist.” He shook his head. “Let’s go feed you. I don’t want Katie on me for starving her messy boy.” 

Zerbrowski laughed. “Sounds good to me.” He was still laughing when Harry and he finally climbed out of the car and walked to the door being held open by Shang-Da. 

“All set, Little Hellcat?” Bobby Lee asked as everyone finally went inside.

“You know me Bobby, friendly with everyone.” Harry quipped back as he slid in next to Caleb, across from Jason. It was a subtle way of showing Caleb that he wasn’t preferring wolves over leopards. He knew Jason wouldn’t care. 

“Hi, I’m Zerbrowski.”

“Bobby Lee. Great to meet you Sergeant.” Bobby sat down next to Zerbrowski, making a neat rat-human-wolf sandwich on one side of the table. Shang-Da took the other side of Harry. 

“Oh, you’ve heard? I’m still getting used to the title to be honest.” 

“Harry let us know who we were picking up exactly.” Bobby grinned. 

“We placed an order in for everyone. Hope you like club sandwiches Sergeant.” Jason spoke up before taking a sip of his water. “Not sure if you had a drink preference.”

“That’s fine with me and just water. Thanks. Katie makes a stink if I’m not going for the healthy choices while at a sit down food place.”

“So how many fast food wrappers are in your car now?” Harry teased. 

“About the same, but I promised that any sit down place I’d go healthy. Just don’t go to sit down places that often.” Zerbrowski winked. “Many times I’m grabbing and eating in the car still.”

“So Sergeant Zerbrowski… what’s your first name?” Caleb asked as he played with the salt and pepper shakers.

“I never use it, it’s kind of embarrassing.” 

“Come now ZeZe, you can’t say that. Now I really want to know.” Harry sat forward with a grin. “I can always ask Katie.” 

“No need for that Harry!” He yelped.

“She likes me, she’ll tell me.”

“Can’t be that bad.” Jason shared a grin with Caleb before both turned puppy eyes to Zerbrowski. 

“...Igor…” Zerbrowski mumbled, caving into the look from the two weres. Caleb burst out laughing, stifling it the best he could when Harry smacked his arm. 

“Forgive him ZeZe, he’s still learning manners.”

“Sorry Nimir-Ra,” Caleb muttered low enough that Zerbrowski didn’t hear but the grin never left his face. It was the best Harry would get. 

“Igor Zerbrowski, huh?” Bobby Lee nodded his head. “I can see why you’d find it a hard name to grow up with.”

“Why didn’t you change it when you reached your maturity?” Jason asked with only a few snickers. 

“My father would kill me if I did. He claims it’s a proud, traditional family name.” Zerbrowski sighed in mortification. 

“It’s not too bad.”

“Says the normally named Harry.”

“He has you there, Little Hellcat.”

“Well, Teddy’s mother’s name was Nymphadora,” said Harry grinning at the blinking look from Zerbrowski. 

“Really?” 

“She hated it too. We had to call her Tonks or she’d kick us. Draco’s mum’s name is Narcissa. The magical world has all sorts of interesting titles.” 

“You don’t say.” 

It wasn’t long after that the ordered food arrived. As conversation flowed across the table, the weres being careful about using any of Harry’s actual titles, Harry had to smile. At least now one officer on the force was friendly with some of the community. He did wonder if Zerbrowski was aware that he was the only ‘normal’ human at the table. Harry wouldn’t have put it past him to remember Caleb from the fight earlier this year at his house. Caleb had been traumatized at the shotgun in his face, and Harry had snuggled him against Dolph’s orders. Bobby and Shang-Da might slip his notice though. 

Zerbrowski had always been the type to get along with anybody, and it always made him wonder just who he pissed off to be tagged for RPIT. Merlioni getting someone pissed off was a given, and then there was Clive Perry. Neither of them had that personality that would make the higher ups want to shove them away and out of sight. 

Harry finished the last of the blackberry pie, and night had only begun to settle in. Jean-Claude would be awake, and likely Damian too. As if his thoughts carried all the way home, his cellphone rang. 

He pulled it out, and checked the number. It was the house. “Hello?” 

“How are you feeling, mon Amour? I am sorry I had to leave your side.” Unfortunately, the cellphones had a habit of carrying, and everyone including Zerbrowski could hear him as evidenced by the eyebrow wag he got from across the table. Dang it. 

“It’s not your fault,” said Harry. “I’m okay now. Just a bit tired.” 

“But, I do think it is. I was updated on what had happened, and we have our own situation.” 

“Now what?” 

“It is Musette. I received word from Meng-Die that Musette has been screaming in a trapped sleep for two days, mon Amour.” Harry blinked at this. “Not a single person can wake her. It is as if she has gone mad, and nothing anyone can do will see her awoken.”

“Is that where he went?” Harry murmured to himself. 

“He?” 

“My devil,” said Harry looking away from Zerbrowski. “There is a reason you don’t go into my mind and try to drain me dry.” 

“Where are our other halves?” 

He was glad Jean-Claude didn’t say Edward’s name. Probably knew better. “I’m not sure, they went off to find someone, and deal with another issue we’ve got going on. Ted should be back soon.” 

“Ted. Hm. You are not alone are you?” 

“Nope.” Zerbrowski was now smirking at him. “But, it’s fine.” At least he hoped it was fine. “Sorry if it’s going to cause issue with her.” 

“Non. She went out of her way to try and drain me, and it hit you and the others almost causing me to lose you all. I will not have it. It was against the rules, the laws of the treaty. You do not touch that which belongs to another for any reason. No harm, and they broke it. It means we are within our rights to punish. I guess my maker believes that I will not in fear of her, but I do not fear any longer. I am ever so sorry about that, mon Amour. She has laid her own bed.” 

Jason and Harry laughed, Bobby snorted into his drink. “I think you mean made it.” 

“ _ Oui! _ Now, why don’t you have another slice of that pie, Hm? I shall leave you to your friends.” 

“Don’t go to the Circus without us.” 

“I would not. Even I would not cross our beloved Ted.” And soon they hung up. 

“Harry and I are the only humans at this table aren’t we?” Zebrowski asked with a smirk. “Ted wouldn’t happen to be Ted Forrester would it?”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” 

“Easy Caleb,” Harry muttered, brushing a hand along his thigh, “and yes, we meant Ted Forrester.”

Zerbrowski had a slightly confused expression on his face. Everyone would know the name Ted Forrester if they were in the know about preternatural. Even before they officially met him during the assassin crisis at Teddy’s school, Ted Forrester had a name. He might not come off as the Death that Edward was, but he was a legend. He made a name for himself. He was the equivalent of a nuke when it came to preternaturals. 

“Huh, interesting.” He wondered what was so interesting, but he knew Zerbrowski wasn’t about to say anything that could get him glares. He was too smart for that. He could be a smart ass, but a dumb arse he was not. 

“Musette?” Zerbrowski dared, causing Jason to flinch, and of course the detective noticed it. 

“A nightmare.” It was about all he could say. 

Jason changed the subject, and soon the bill had arrived. Harry refused to let Zerbrowski pay. Harry was just turning to look out the window into the deep cold night flushed with streetlights, and for all of a second he thought he saw a pair of honey drenched eyes staring back at him in reflection. But when he blinked it was gone. 

Harry left a healthy tip. Jason and Caleb wandered off to the bathroom as Shang-Da and Bobby Lee headed to their truck to wait. Harry shivered as the air cut across them. 

“Caleb is quite sensitive.” 

“Always has been,” said Harry tucking his hands away. 

“So, you’re not going to tell me about Musette?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“Best you don’t know. Let’s just say she is the cause of what happened that day.” 

Zerbrowski paled. “But, it was daylight. She couldn’t have, and she couldn’t have been there.” 

“Not all vampires need to be right there to do things to you,” he said miserably. “As long as they don’t hit direct sunlight, they can be awake. It’s rare, and it takes a very strong master to do it. But it’s not impossible. Jean-Claude can be up at three o’ clock in the day or even ten in the morning.” 

“Wow. New information. I really should have brought a notepad.” 

“Normally, vampires and the like can’t get into my mind. It’s impossible, but there is a thing I’ve had going for a while now that had a weakness, and she came at me through that weakness,” he said thinking about the ardeur. “The head of Jean-Claude’s line sent an envoy in her stead. A most disagreeable one. Let’s just say a lot of vampires can be just as jealous as humans.” 

“Huh… interesting. I don’t understand half of that. Sheesh, Harry. You’ve got yourself an interesting life.” 

“Yeah, not quite apple pie.” 

“You like blackberry, and here I thought you preferred cherry.” 

“A boy can change, and I choose banana creme too these days.” Damian had discovered that he liked bananas out of all the sweeter things that Harry had tried. Of course, bananas weren’t native where he was from, but then Damian reminded him that most food in that time period wasn’t very enjoyable. 

Zerbrowski burst out laughing, and then Harry realized what he had said and how it sounded causing him to turn red. “You lech!” Harry whacked him over the head. 

“How many bananas do you eat in a day?” he taunted with a cheeky grin. 

Harry grumbled. “It depends on the day.” 

“Today?” 

Harry blinked. “None actually, and here I woke up in a hot tub full of men.” Zerbrowski was wheezing now, and Jason and Caleb stared at the detective. “Damn her! All her fault.” 

“Is he okay?” Caleb asked. 

“I don’t want to be charged with killing a Sergeant,” Jason taunted as Zerbrowski held his side. 

“He’s a lech, that’s what’s wrong with him.” 

Caleb pushed against Harry’s back. “Aren’t you used to that?” he asked, pressing his chin to Harry’s shoulder. 

“And yet at the same time it still makes him light up,” Jason grinned. 

“Let’s get out of the cold and into the warmth!” Harry huffed. “Come on,  _ Igor! _ ” 

Everyone snickered, and Zerbrowski straightened, turning a bright red in the ears. “I’m never going to live it down am I?” 

“Nope. But I promise to keep your secret,” Harry quipped. 

Zerbrowski teased Harry on the way back to the station. A car accident forced them to take a longer route. 

Harry was reclining back and shooting remarks back every so often when once again a feeling as if eyes were on the back of his neck took hold of him, and a cloying perfume that smelled like roses. It wasn’t Jean-Claude because his scent was light and airy, natural. But this, this wasn’t natural. It was nose burning. 

“Do you smell that?” Harry breathed. 

“Are you going to tease me that my bullshit stinks?” Zerbrowski teased with a cock of his head. 

Before Harry could answer, a sweet taste spread into his mouth, and that voice whispered into his head.  _ “How dare you hurt one of my childe. Did you truly believe you could escape me?”  _

“I did escape you, and I warned you ages ago lady that getting into my head was never a good idea,” Harry hissed. 

“What?” 

“Harry?” 

Harry shook his head, concentrating on the voice and the thickening sneeze worthy roses. “It’s not my fault you didn’t listen to me. It’s not my fault that your arrogance is going to be the death or madness of your envoy. Did you enjoy feeding on me?”

_ “Oh yes, and I will do it again, and again until I am sated.”  _

“Then you will go mad. Everything around you will go mad. I’ll make sure of it.” 

_ “You know what they would do to you should any harm come to me.” _

“You are not her, and right now she’s being held hostage in her mind. My devils do not like you encroaching on me, and I will let her suffer for eternity.” 

_ “You will release her.”  _

“No. Come at me if you dare.” 

She laughed in Harry’s head, and it was like having the inside of his skull rubbed with fur, as if she could touch things with her voice that no one should have touched with their hands. That purring, contralto laugh rolled through him, and raised the goosebumps along his skin. 

An image swallowed reality like a whale taking one big gulp, and he was standing there near a huge bed with a mass of bodies on it. It was a jumble of arms, legs, chests, groins, all male. Then one man raised up, only his upper body, and Harry glimpsed Belle beneath him. He lowered his body and she vanished from view. It was like watching a nest of snakes, so much movement, disconnected in the candlelit dark, as if each limb were something separate and alive without the body. 

She released the ardeur upon them, and fed and fed and fed until she rose from the mass of flesh glowing with power. Her eyes so bright with dark flames that they cast shadows as she half stepped, half floated from the bed. One man’s body had fallen to the floor, forgotten. He lay very still as she stalked nude and ripe with curves that most would enjoy. Her power continued to glow. She walked over the body of the man who had given everything to satisfy her needs, while the other men reached for her, begged her not to stop. The men began to rise to their knees, or fall off the bed in an effort to follow. At least two other bodies lay on the bed forever still, forever gone. Three of them dead, loved to death, and still the others begged her for more, still they tried to stand and follow her. 

Harry knew then that it was Jean-Claude that she had tied to a chair and made watch. He knew it was him, and not Harry, that watched her with fearful, hungry eyes. But when she walked past him without so much as a caress, Harry couldn’t help but choke on despair. A punishment for daring to leave her. 

Harry sneered as he broke free of the binds. “You know something woman?” 

“What is it, childe?” 

“You’re an ugly bitch. You may think you look gorgeous. You may think you are the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen, but lady you are absolutely rancid inside. I’ve seen banshees more pleasing to the eye than the toxic waste that you are.” He smirked when he felt her eyes widen in the distance, horror ran through him as he felt her emotions rise through him, hatred and anger filled him. “Oh good, I got you angry, which means you’re making me feel angry. Take this,  _ Crucio _ !” Harry poured his magic into his mind, and Belle Morte burst through him with a gut-wrenching scream. “Come at me bitch if you dare because I will tear you to pieces. You are no longer Jean-Claude’s and he will never be yours, and Asher is so off limits. You are nothing to them. You are no one to them. Your centuries of so-called love was nothing more than a figment, and I will love them all until you become nothing more than a vapor.” 

“You cannot do this to me!” Her shrills pounded through him. “You belong to me. I will have you. I will take you from Jean-Claude. You are mine. Asher is mine, and so is Jean-Claude. I will have it all!” 

“Yeah, sure. You are nothing to write home about. I may have adopted this power from your bloodline, but it is  _ mine _ now. Just as my former enemies power is now mine, and it now breaths down Musette’s neck waiting and watching for the right time to end her. You suck innocents away, I suck the enemies. Let’s see who wins.” And like a light, Harry was wrenched from his dreams when hands seized his shoulders. 

“Harry, Harry, Harry!” 

“What’s going on?” Oh Merlin, Zerbrowski was with him. 

“Harry, please wake up!” 

“What is this power?” Caleb whimpered. 

Harry moaned, and worked hard to shut off his mind. “Belle… in my head…” he hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Jesus, he’s sweating. Get him out of the jacket. Did she raise the ardeur, Harry?” Jason was still driving and swerving on the road. It was a good thing it was almost deserted. 

“I- I don’t know. I’m trying to throw her out. Fuck!” Harry cried out as heat poured over him like a volcano making his eyes roll when Zerbrowski seized his shoulders to rip the coat from his body. 

“He’s burning alive!” 

“No, I won’t feed it,” Harry growled out. “No… not now. Not yet.” 

_ “Give into it. I’m hungry. I want more!” _ said her shrilling voice that was no longer contralto or sexy. She was angry and desperate. 

“Fuck you, bitch,” Harry roared as he reached up to grip his hair to keep from getting his hands on the nearest man in vicinity. 

Harry cried out when Zerbrowski managed to pin him back in the seat. “Harry, open your eyes, look at me!” 

“No…” Harry cringed when he reluctantly cracked his eyes open. Zerbrowski was staring down at him, gold rimmed glasses sliding, and he could hear and smell the blood rushing beneath the man’s skin, and focused on the vein that pulsed in his neck. “Will not…” 

Jason pulled over with a sharp jerk on the edge of the road, and cut the engine. “Harry, is it the ardeur?” 

“Yesss… but it isn’t mine!” Harry hissed. “Zerbrowski - please!” He wanted to push the man away, but he didn’t dare release his hands, fearing what they would do. 

“Sergeant. You’re going to have to back off,” said Jason unfastening his belt, and climbing into the back to push the detective aside to get between them. “Harry, you haven’t fed it in days.” He shoved his own jacket off, and Harry’s eyes narrowed when he smelled the wolf inside Jason, smelled his blood, and the pulse in his neck. 

“I can’t… I can’t. She’ll drain me again,” Harry tried not to let his body arch forward toward Jason. Fuck, he smelled so good. He could smell the cologne and shampoo the younger man used, and the way his eyes dazzled even at night, and the subtle curve of his lovely baby face. “She’ll drain you. I can’t…”

“Then use me to fight it. I can take it. I’m your pomme, Harry,” Jason hissed and he bared down on Harry so close that their noses touched. 

It was as if something else had climbed into his body, and he covered Jason’s mouth with a biting hunger. His fingers seizing Jason, and his nails digging in. Jason moaned at the power that laced through his body. 

“What’s going on?” It was Zerbrowski’s voice that jolted Harry, made him release despite the hiss in his head. 

“No, I can’t feed...” He was staring at the deep scratches in Jason’s neck. “No. I will not hurt you.” 

“Then fight it,” Jason growled, and Harry watched his eyes bleed wolf green and yellow. “Fight it, Lupa, fight it like you always do. Make it yours!” 

“Mine.” 

“Yes! It’s your power,” Jason gripped Harry’s jaw so tight that if he was pure human, he’d probably have cracked it. 

“What’s going on with Little Hellcat?” Bobby asked on the other side of the car.

“No idea,” said Zerbrowski. 

“It’s Belle,” Jason told them. 

“She’s here? Shit!” Bobby Lee whipped around, gun out as if he was ready to give off shots at the first movement. 

“No, she’s in him, and you can’t shoot my Lupa.” Jason had managed to straddle Harry, pinning him down with all his strength. He had taken Harry’s wrists and placed them on each side so that he wasn’t pulling out his hair. 

“Just keep me down,” Harry told him. “Do not let me go!” It didn’t stop his hands from clinging to Jason’s biceps, he dug his thin nails into him. 

“Gotcha Lupa,” said Jason, taking a sharp breath. “But, God you’re burning up.” 

Harry’s eyes rolled when that heated sensation torched him from the inside, and he moaned as the craving of blood and lust flared through him like a torch. 

“Nimir-Ra?” Caleb whimpered as he tried to climb over. 

Harry tilted his head, and locked with Caleb. “I’m fine, Caleb.” But, he was so not fine as his eyes began to roll back into his head, and a power began to pulse into the car sending everyone hissing or making noise, including Zerbrowski. 

That was how he found himself standing in a long vast familiar hall with hundreds of doors and paths that went on forever. Safety. Yes, safe place, but his defense was not here. His main line of defense had gone to take care of hers, and he was open season on anything too strong for its own good. 

He could feel the flowing wash of power, the harsh scent of roses, and he quickly pushed through a door on the right only to end up in a black expanse of a room. 

“You can’t hide from me, no matter how intricate your mind is, childe,” Bella’s contralto voice had returned, and that feeling of fur rubbing against him had him cringing rather than drawn in. 

He ignored her call, and dived deeper. He went in one door, and out another. For a second he thought he glimpsed pale flesh and a black sheer negligee only for him to dart across to another door. He never stopped, he continued running in his mind through all the paths and curves that felt endless. 

He then burst through a room that was entirely empty with only a small draw of light to the very center of the room highlighting the only thing of importance. It was a tattered dark blue veil with a swirling endless night beyond it. It sat upon a high dais, and whispers began to pour out of it. 

Merlin, had the other part of his soul set this up? Harry once upon a time feared the damn thing. It’d taken one of the few people who had loved him as a child, but not this time. It was just death. Just a death. A gateway, and Harry felt no fear as he moved closer to it. 

He could feel her drawing closer, smell that pungent scent of rose perfume. Jean-Claude was either going to change scents or he was going to change flowers because this was making him sneeze and burn. 

Every step she took was like a thud against his ribs. It made Hagrid’s footsteps seem soft and gentle. He brushed his fingers along the veil, and let out a deep breath when a magic filled him. He knew this magic. It was Death Magic at its most pure. It sparkled and ran through his veins. 

“I found you, childe, and now you are-” She stopped suddenly when Harry stepped out of the way. 

Her eyes fell on the veil. “You really want to come closer? Do you hear that?” Her honey colored eyes flickered over the tattered veil that swayed ominously with no wind. “You’ve made a grave mistake, Madam if you truly think you can steal from me. It looks like you’ve learned nothing from your time with Merlin or was Merlin one of the few who turned you down flat?” Her face puffed up, her chest seemed to rise higher, and Harry couldn’t help but giggle. “So, he did say no to you. He resisted you. Must have hurt.” 

“It did. No one resists me,” she said with a small frown. “I do not understand why you would not want everything. I can offer you everything.” 

“You offer nothing but lies, madam. You offer a comfort that is not real, and will never be real. I blame you for what happened to Asher. I blame you entirely.” 

Belle frowned. “I would never have tarnished Asher in such a way.” 

“But you did. You drew him into the arms of those holy raiders. How else would they have overpowered someone such as Asher and with a human servant at his side? You sought to tear them apart because that woman had something you did not.” 

“What is that? She was a common little thing. Maybe pleasant, but she was flawed and imperfect. She did not deserve Asher,” Belle sneered with a flick of her wrist as though she were batting a fly. 

“She had love, which made her the most enriched beauty in all the world.” 

“I can love.” 

“You lust. You don’t love. You don’t even love yourself. But, none of that is all that important. I can care less what you like or what you don’t. Your offers are childish. You are childish, and I was not put here to be twisted and used by the likes of you. Come any further, and you may be sucked in, and you may never be released. It’s a real embrace. Endless night. You will never be free. You will become a Beautiful Death in every sense of the word. If you truly want me. Come to me.”

Belle began to walk the length between them, the pressure of her brewing lust began to build, but he stood his ground. His fingers reached out and caressed the veil that began to sway causing her to suddenly stop, and peer into the endless night. 

Voices began to sing through the veil, spill out secrets and tales that Harry didn’t understand, but she seemed to because her face went slack, and it began to grow haunting and dark. Something was draining from her eyes. 

“I will give you one last warning, Belle Morte. You leave here, you take your Musette, and you leave the country. If you return, I will kill you. I will not only kill you, but I will kill everything inside of you. Jean-Claude may still hold love for you, but I do not. I will not let you hurt him. I will not let you touch him. You may be the stuff of nightmares, but I have learned to play in nightmares. I’ll make you wither before I kill you. I will make you grow gaunt. I will suck the essence away from you this time because I am Death’s emissary on this earth.” It all started with her hair, once glossy and raven black down her back, and it was going gray and becoming dry. 

Harry waved his wand to show a floor sized mirror and her eyes grew large as they began to empty. Her face began to shrink, the luster of glowing sexual release, the forever young began to crumble. 

“You can’t do this to me… why would you do this?” 

“You hurt me, why wouldn’t I hurt you?” 

“But I birthed you.” 

“No, Lily and James Potter had me,” Harry corrected. “I was the son of Lily and James Potter. And no parent should ever be so cruel to treat their children in the way you have. I will give you a chance, but you are going to leave here. You are going to take Musette and apologize or I will tear her mind asunder. She will be nothing more than a vegetable. Your choice on which it will be.” 

“You are cold, childe!” Belle despaired. 

“To enemies. Yes, I am.” 

“I don’t wish for an enemy.” 

“Yes, I heard. You wish for a weapon. But you have to ask. You cannot take. You have to ask me if you want us as weapons. Not assume that just because you’re pretty you can have everything.” 

“Ask you?” 

“Yes. You need only ask. I was set out to respect you for bringing Jean-Claude to this world, but with your callousness. I don’t know what to respect. I had hoped to make friends with you like I did Traveler. But it seems not to be the case. I do not need Jean-Claude’s permission. I am more than a human servant.” 

“Of that there is no doubt.” Her looks were still fading. Her once full breasts were deflating making the top of her negligee become loose. She gasped at the sagging. “You will kill me?” 

“You hurt us, and yes I will. You treat us with the respect we deserve, and you may go back to yourself. But I will not have my life bullied anymore. You are not the first to try and take from me.” He felt him return to his side, and Belle drew back when Lord Voldemort stepped out of the veil. 

She hissed at his grotesque figure, his eyes red like a cats. His power was dark and all encompassing. It pressed around the room like a heavy blanket. 

“Belle Morte, meet the Dark Lord Voldemort. After him, why would I fear you?” 

“High praise, Harry.” 

“You shaped me.” 

“He was your enemy?” 

“Yep. As I once said, it’s better with the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” 

Belle seemed to come to an understanding. “You are going to consume me, and I’ll be your power. Not the other way around…” 

“Correct. You are merely a vampire. A strong one, I will give you. Probably one of the stronger ones I’ve met. But I am neither human, vampire, or shifter. I am a Necromancer. I am Death and Death is me.” 

“How did a catamite like Jean-Claude get a hold of you?” 

“He fell in love,” said Harry. “Not lust. He fell in love. You asked why it took years because he did not understand what love even was. He only knew lust. It’s why he is no longer of your bloodline. He is now his own, sourdre de sang, and the rules have changed.” 

Belle closed her eyes. “That is why he is closed to me.” 

“Yep.” 

“The ardeur will never leave you. You will hunger forever.” 

“As if I don’t already hunger. I hunger for food. I hunger for sunlight. I hunger for darkness when the light is too much. I hunger for family and friends, and I hunger for lust. It’s all natural, and I will treat this hunger like I do every other hunger. I will not overeat, I will not abuse it. Now, get the fuck out of my mind.” He and Voldemort pushed their magic. 

That was when Harry’s mind began to change and revolve, the room and everything transformed into pure darkness, and it did not have the same feel of Belle Morte. It was as if Harry had cast a reverse legilimens of sorts. 

It was absolute darkness that met him, so black that it held shines of other colors, like an oil slick or a trick of the eye. As if this blackness was a darkness made up of every color that had ever existed, every sight that had ever been seen, every sigh, every scream, since time began. Harry heard the term primordial darkness many times before, and he’d been in it a few times himself. 

But this was different. 

A creation so old shifted amongst the darkness. Harry’s mind tried to find words to describe what it was. It loomed over him like a mountain because it had weight and that claustrophobic feeling of a mountain poised to come crashing down. But it was not a mountain. It was more like a black ocean. 

Is this what beyond the veil looked like? 

“No, this isn’t beyond the veil. It’s something different,” Voldemort’s voice was barely a whisper. “Do be on guard, and take in everything you see.” And as that primordial darkness began to shift, it became freezing cold to touch, more cold than a vampire ever could be, and he just knew, knew without having to be told what this was. “The first,” Voldemort remarked. 

It had to have been. She was the primordial dark made real. She was why humans feared the dark, just the darkness, not what lies in the dark, not what hides there. She was darkness. 

There was a time when she walked amongst the world, fed on them, and when the darkness fell, somewhere in the back of their minds, they remember the hungry dark. He realized his thoughts were not from him specifically. He couldn’t have known about the first vampire, not possible. 

They were from Belle Morte. He was seeing what she had seen, and she wanted an army against it. 

“So, this was her point? To test you,” said Voldemort. 

“Seems so,” Harry breathed. 

That shining ocean of blackness reached out towards him, and he knew that if he touched it that he would not be able to escape. 

Harry stared at the darkness as it began to bend over him, and he knew it lied. It’s the dark that doesn’t last. Dawn comes and slays the darkness, not the other way around. If Harry could have found air, he would have laughed at his thoughts. He did not fear death or any such. But Belle Morte did. She feared it. He found all her fears, the terror that rolled through her hungry body. 

They were suddenly in a dark, dark room. Not pitch black like before, but it was as if the only light were reflected from somewhere else. There was a bed with a black silk cover and a figure lying beneath that cover. The room was hexagonal, and there were windows, but Harry knew that they did not look out upon the world. The windows gazed upon the darkness that never lifted or changed. Harry was drawn to the foot of the bed. Instinctively, Harry reached as if to touch that shining black silk. 

“Step back. She is also a great cat,” said Voldemort. “Of which species I do not know. But we do not want her to draw yours to her.” 

“Vampires can’t be lycanthropes.” 

“No, generally they cannot. But this one is. Do not touch it. Reverse the spell. We’ve seen enough. I do not think Belle Morte wishes us for her enemy rather than an ally.” 

It was a figure that was asleep, and he could see it moving. Her moving. A sigh moved through that close, airless room, and on that first breath of air, came a whisper of sound, the first sound that the room had heard in centuries. “Me.” 

He was right. 

“You passed my test, childe. I shall leave, but rest assured, I will be back to kiss you good night. As all great mothers do.” Belle’s contralto tone sung down upon them. 

Harry sighed heavily. “I have no doubt. But next time. Be nice, okay? Being mean is just ugly.” And he knew he had won, and he let out a deep sigh. “Welcome back, Tom.” 

“Yes, indeed. It was fun. It seems like things are going to be more fun from now on.” 

“I hate to love you,” and Harry faded away to the cold amused laughter of his shouldered devil. 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crosses fingers* you should all be getting this on time since AO3's twitter claims they've fixed the dead email server issue....

“He isn’t moving. We should call an ambulance.” 

“Not yet. Trust him, Sergeant.” 

“You can let go now, I’m sure. You should tend to the wounds on your neck.” 

“I better not. Lupa told me to hold him down, I will do so. I’m fine. I’ve had worse, and Harry wouldn’t ever hurt me.” 

“Is Nimir-Ra okay?” the voice of Caleb whimpered in the darkness, and it was this worry and fear that had Harry’s eyes fluttering open, and taking a deep great breath. He could feel the gel of sweat glazing over his body beneath his jumper. 

His ardeur was still hungering. It was still flowing through him, but it was  _ his _ . He recognized the feel and the want, the passion that flowed beneath him. He stared up at the spring sky eyes of Jason. 

“Harry, you’re back.” 

“Yes, it’s me,” said Harry with a shiver. 

“Can I let go?” 

“Yes, I won’t do anything.”  _ Yet _ . Harry thought as Jason slowly released him. Both side doors were open, Bobby on Zerbrowski’s side, and Shang-Da stood resolutely just outside on Harry’s. “I’m alright, Caleb.” He reached out to the man who was more of a boy to him. He grabbed Harry’s hand, and nuzzled it. He saw nail drag marks along Jason’s neck and around his ear, and on his biceps that seemed to run down in cat-like lines. “Merlin, Jason. I hurt you…” 

Jason waved it off. “No big deal, Lupa. If you did this to keep her out of you then all the better. I can be a scratching post every so often. I don’t mind.” He cocked his head with a smirk. “You started to burn up.” 

Jason really was the sweetest thing. Harry folded around the younger man and hugged him. He nuzzled at the scratches and scrapes. He hoped they healed quickly. 

“How? What happened?” asked Zerbrowski. “I felt something strange. It was… unlike anything I’d felt before.” He shuddered. 

“It was a pain in my arse, that’s what it was,” said Harry. “But I conquered it. She should be leaving. No more Musette, no more Belle. Both gone, and my devil is back. He won’t be letting anyone in any time soon. But I need to get home, and with haste.” He gave Jason a look who nodded. 

“Is all well?” asked Shang-Da. 

“Better. She’s gone.” 

“Good. We shall continue.” Harry touched Shang-Da. 

“Well, Little Hellcat, looks like you fought off whatever that blood sucker wanted out of you. Good on you!” Bobby Lee smirked. “Let’s go. My ass is freezing off.” 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as Zerbrowski’s lip twitched. Jason climbed back over to the front seat, and Caleb sat curled up in the passenger seat as Shang-Da and Bobby Lee closed the side doors. 

“Is this typical?” asked Zerbrowski, acting as though nothing odd had happened. 

“Not really. Not to this degree. As I told you, some vampires don’t need to be there in person to be a pain.” 

“You were attacked?”

“Yes.” 

“It was a strange power that flowed from you, making me even more a lech than I am.” 

Harry couldn’t help but grin and cock his head. “Yes. It’s the power of lust. I have it, and the vampire that attacked was the original holder of it. So she tried to use it against me. I refused.” 

“Lust?” Zerbrowski repeated. 

“Yes, I’m required to feed the lust otherwise things get a bit hazy.” 

Jason started laughing. “I’m his pomme.” 

“Pomme?” 

“Temporary fix when my men aren’t around.” 

Zerbrowski blinked and then blinked again before he erupted into a gaggle of laughter leaving Harry to sigh and sag down. “Now it makes sense! H-how long have you had it?” 

“I don’t know. It didn’t rise until about September. But I think it’s always been there and lingering. Just waiting for something. She was trying to force me to feed, she was trying to use it against me. Like a weapon. I refused to let her. She was in my mind. I sent her on a goose chase. In the end, she chose to let me go.” 

“Why? From what I know, Belle Morte would never have let you go if she had a choice.” 

Harry smiled. “No one gets in my mind against my will, Jason. I cannot be rolled. I cannot be borrowed, and I damn well do not have a price, but she did. I threatened her beauty. I threatened to take it all if she didn’t leave us alone.” He leaned up, and ran his fingers silkily through Jason and Caleb’s hair lovingly making them shiver visibly. “I won’t have any of you under her spell or beneath her clutches. No one uses us.” 

“Lupa…” Jason breathed. He shivered as Harry pressed a kiss to his neck where the wounds were. 

“Hn…” Caleb could barely speak. But he looked as though he wanted to curl into Harry. “You can use me if you like,” he mumbled. 

Zerbrowski blinked. “Interesting touch you’ve got there, Harry. Do you think you can teach Katie?” 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that all you can think about? Aren’t you freaked out?” 

“A little bit,” said Zerbrowski smirking. “But, if I’ve learned one thing since working with you and on RPIT, is to open your eyes. You never discount anything. You always watch because the preternatural world is a new playground entirely.” 

“You’ve got that right.” He had never heard it put so bluntly. But Zerbrowski was if nothing else a blunt man. He didn’t mince words. “Am I off the case?” 

“Hell no. Ain’t no way we’re going to catch this bastard if we don’t have everyone. It’s my call, and Dolph… well… he’s being pushed to take some time off, stress.” Zerbrowski looked pained. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go to that last scene.” 

“You’ve already apologized, and really you’re not at fault. It was all Dolph,” said Harry. 

“If you want to file an assault charge, I wouldn’t blame you.” 

Harry sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to do that, Zerbrowski. I get it. People flip, things get too much at home and they carry it to work. A work that is harder than a lot of people’s, but I am not my lovers,” he told the man seriously. 

Zerbrowski winced at this. 

“If this had just been yelling. I’d have let it roll off my back. But, he grabbed me. He touched me when I told him no. He almost rubbed me into the crime scene. A contaminated area of epic proportions.” 

“Yeah, his hands are black as night. A series of third degree burns,” said Zerbrowski. 

“I didn’t do that. My body did. My mother died shielding me when I was a baby, and it gave me a protection. A power of sacrifice. If anything touches me without my permission it tends to get a bit heady. It gets worse the more you try to keep hold.” 

“I don’t think you can possibly be held accountable Harry, there were enough eyewitnesses. Some are even calling for his badge.” 

“I hope it doesn’t come to that. I myself won’t say anything. But that won’t stop others.” 

By now, Jason had pulled up to the station. “I hope you enjoyed that outing.” 

“It was quite adventurous. I really needed a notebook though,” he said, shaking his head. “Keep your phone on?” 

“You got it, Sarge.” 

Zerbrowski grinned. “And you are coming over. You and all your men.” 

“I don’t think Katie deserves that much work cooking,” Harry squawked causing the man to throw his head back and laugh. “Get out of here, Zeze.” 

Zerbrowski glowed as though Harry had said something amazing. “See you later.” He closed the door, and was soon scaling the steps of the police station. 

He didn’t flinch when Caleb took the initiative to climb across the backseat, and rested his head on Harry’s lap and curled up. Harry dropped a hand to comb through the chocolate curls as Jason took off. 

“I don’t mind him. He seems to have an open mind.” 

“Let’s hope it sticks,” said Harry sagging down, and trying to ignore the ravenous heat that gathered and pulled around him. “Are you really alright?” 

“Harry, the last time you marked me we were fucking nicely. I don’t mind a few scrapes.” 

“Don’t make me jealous,” Caleb huffed. 

Harry leaned down and snuggled him on instinct, and kissed along his pierced brow. 

He tried to distract himself by thinking about that darkness beyond his mind. Is that what Belle feared most? A darkness that she could not defeat? Mother of All Vampires, and then Harry felt a word on his tongue that he never thought of before. He knew it was Jean-Claude supplying him with it. Mother Gentle, Mother of All Darkness. 

But in the end. She was just a vampire, and if she was a vampire, she could be killed. Nothing was immortal for long. Everything died. 

It wasn’t that late when Harry returned home. A little after seven, had time really gone by that slowly? It was incredible to think that the night just started, and here he was feeling so hot under the collar. He was taking in sharp breaths, and he knew that he’d let something out because Caleb was nuzzling against him, and sometimes making soft noises. 

Harry closed his eyes as Jason came to a full stop and cut the engine. He tried to center his focus. If only to get his arse out of the car. Jason opened the door for him. Caleb clutched him. “Caleb? We have to get out.” 

“Hn…” Caleb tried to shimmy his hands beneath Harry’s jumper. 

“N-no,” Harry breathed gently, taking hold of his hands and clutching them. 

“But…” 

“No. I can’t do that.” He leaned down and kissed Caleb’s forehead, trying to ignore the thumping of his heart, and the pulse in his throat. 

“Why not?” asked Caleb rising. “You need us. Jason can’t always be here.” 

Harry shook his head, and leveled Caleb. “I won’t do that to you.” He managed to pull himself away, trying to ignore the muscles and the heat, and the smell of soap. He was jittery getting out of the Escalade and before Jason could get him upright, Jean-Claude was right there. 

Looking lovely in a velvet crimson waistcoat with a spill of white lace beneath it, his chest exposed. Harry fell into him, and their lips met leaving him breathless. “I shall care for you, mon Amour, as you are mien.” 

It did not matter what Belle had done or what was coming for them, all that mattered was that he got wrapped up in Jean-Claude. Everything else could come later. 

He saw nothing before him, and didn’t even remember getting to his room. But the hands undressing him, the lovely warm lips against his neck and gliding down his body had him arching. He learned that Jean-Claude’s scent of roses was more natural. It was not a cloying perfume that stifled his nose and made it burn. It was real, and Harry moaned as Jean-Claude devoured him, and this time he let the master vampire into his mind. Allowed him to roll and caress him while at the same time taking his body. 

“You let me inside of you.” 

“I love you, and you are no longer her bloodline. You are your own.” 

“Oui, I have come to that conclusion too. I was there, I felt it all. I felt her chase you, but I could not touch. I was too far away. I felt Edward and Micah as well, they could not reach out. We were suspended, watching the fight between the two of you. You are absolutely breathtaking, and your personal monster… how you consumed his power. I want you to consume me.” 

Harry laughed. “You’re the master, I’m just your servant,” he teased beneath the deep slick thrusts that sent his budding climax to a rise. 

“Feed from me, mon Amour. Feed on my lust, and we shall let our other halves feel it,” and so Harry did. He felt and sucked and rolled into the silk of the sheets. He rode the current hard until stars began to bloom a bright pulsing white, and he fell over the edge. Jean-Claude invaded him. His pleasure became Harry’s pleasure, and his need became Harry’s need. 

His built up hunger unleashed, and while he took, he did not take it all. He satiated it, but did not overfill, and when he was done, he climbed on top of Jean-Claude’s naked body. He glistened in the soft lightning as they shared deep intense kissing. 

“I thank you, mon Amour. You have freed me from something that has haunted me for an age,” Jean-Claude’s midnight eyes sparkled with a line of tears. “I would not have been able to break free without you, without mon Teuer d’Ombre and mon Chaton. I would have been a forever slave to the lust, unable to move in fear.” 

“She does not love you. She does not deserve you. You’re ours.” 

“Oui. What you said to her about Asher. I feel it is true. I have toiled with the question for centuries, how did they get him? He was stronger than me, and much more powerful.” 

“She entered my territory, Jean. She thought she could rule my nightmares and mind because of the ardeur and because of my connection to you. She was wrong. Our gift to Musette will be her life, but she will go home, and never return.” 

“I wonder how far our powers can go? I am most interested in finding out,” said Jean-Claude sweeping his hands up and down Harry’s body. “You look as though you are glowing, mon Amour. Maybe you did take more than you anticipated when she came into you.” 

Harry wasn’t sure if he believed that, and he wanted no part of her. “Maybe it’s because I’m gay, but I don’t find her attractive. I find her repulsive.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled richly. “You are absolutely magnificent, but I do have a wonder. If you were attracted to that gender, what would be your interest?” He pulled Harry down onto his chest. 

It’d been a while since the two of them had any alone time. He was able to carve out some for each of his men, but Jean-Claude was always busy running the city, and his time was limited. Harry nuzzled him. “Interest?” He lay down on the man’s chest, and kissed the burned scar as he truly thought about it. “You met George’s wife, right?” 

“Oui, dashing young woman, Angelina right?” 

“Probably her or someone like her. I don’t like repulsive personalities. Someone like Belle and Fleur Delacour do nothing but make me roll my eyes. I just showed Belle what she truly was to me. I didn’t strip her looks. Just showed her what I saw. It was my mind, I could do anything I wanted in it.” 

Jean-Claude threw his head back and laughed. “Marvelous. You truly know how to play such games that frighten a woman. Maybe now, Asher can heal.” 

“And you.” 

“Non. I do not need to for I already have. You healed me.” He brought Harry’s hands up for a kiss. “You healed every part of me, and the way you honored Julianna. You did not have to. I feared your reaction to her.” 

“Why? You loved her.” 

“Oui. Just as I had loved Asher.” 

“It helped shape you, Jean.” 

“But I know how you reacted toward Edward. Micah had fun telling me all about it.” 

Harry snorted. “I was insulted. She did not want Edward. She wanted an image of Ted. She wanted the fabricated person that he came off as. She would have never accepted him for what and how he is.” 

“Is that why you let me roll into you?” 

“You asked me years ago if I trusted you. I said trust was a fickle thing. It was hard to do. I trusted that you would never hurt me, and I came to trust that you love me. I trust that you will never alter my mind against my will. I trust that whatever you do you will bring me back.” 

“Non, why would I do that? Messing with perfection. I simply want to enjoy all of you. I want you to feel all of me.” 

“None of it had anything to do with you being a vampire. It was all me.”

“You are precious.” 

“I’m exhausted, I saw something in Belle’s fears. I saw a dream.” 

“Oh? I did not see this.” 

“Mother of all Darkness?” 

Jean-Claude drew back, and lifted Harry’s chin. “Did you just say-?” 

“She’s waking up.” 

“Non!” 

“Yes.” Jean-Claude’s lovely face twisted into horror. “Belle came looking to see if we would be her weapons. She fears it. I think she might have been feeding on it.” 

“Merde…” He lay back against the silk pillows and closed his eyes. “If that is true, if she wakes that creature… there will be no end to the bloodshed. Our community would be finished.” 

“Not if we kill her first. Everything dies after all.” 

Jean-Claude smiled weakly, and trailed his palms up to Harry’s face. He drew him up and gave him a soft kiss. He reopened his eyes to lock on brilliant green. “You give me courage where I would have once had none.” 

“Don’t forget we have Edward.” 

“Oui. A fine man he is. I almost think he loves me.” He sounded like he was kidding. 

Harry smirked. “He does. In his own odd way. He does care about you after all. He did threaten to hoist you over his shoulder.” 

“Oui, I could not believe what I was hearing. He has an interesting way of communication.” 

Harry snickered. “Deal with it. It’s what we do when we love someone.” 

Jean-Claude smiled. “Love is much nicer than lust. It stays with you.” 

A soft low knock interrupted them, not that it was unwanted because they knew exactly who it was. Jean-Claude tucked the silk sheets around Harry’s waist. “Come in, Teddy Bear.” 

It only occurred to Harry that he had not seen the child at all today, and how horrible was that? Teddy poked his head around. “Is everyone okay in here?” He looked absolutely dashing with long golden blond hair, and bright blue eyes. He had mimicked Asher in child form. 

Jean-Claude was beaming. “He looks dashing! I bet Asher was sure surprised. Such a small Asher. How cute.” 

“We’re fine, Teddy. I’m sorry we scared you.” Teddy came running, and hopped onto the bed. Jean-Claude wound his arms around the child who beamed and kissed him on the chin. Harry slid discreetly off Jean-Claude and snuggled around the boy. 

“It’s okay. So long as you’re all fine now!” said Teddy. “I’ve missed you, Parrain. I was hoping you’d help me with my homework. I saved it for us.” 

Harry’s heart thumped, and he kissed the boy on the cheek. “I’d love to help you, Teddy Bear.” 

“Yay!” He couldn’t have smiled anymore prettily. 

“Have you eaten?” 

“Yep. Nathaniel cooked dinner tonight. It was good. Not your food, but still yummy.” 

Jean-Claude laughed as Harry smiled. “Good.” 

“You want to help me, Père?” he asked, batting his blue eyes making Jean-Claude stare at the child. He looked quite impressive as a baby Asher. 

“I would be honored to help you, mon Petit Loup.” He ran his fingers through Teddy’s golden hair. 

“I like you being here at night. Makes the house so much better.” 

“You capture my heart so easily.”

Harry settled, feeling more comfortable. Teddy was just too young to care, and was simply happy to have Jean-Claude in the house more often. Harry admitted he liked it too. But a Master could not watch his flock from so far away. Even a master vampire. “What have you done today? How was school?” He did tug at the silk sheets, Jean-Claude rolling to form his chest to Harry’s back. 

“I got Asher to play with me, and I’ve been watching Damian to make sure he doesn’t feel bad anymore. School was kind of boring because it’s almost vacation, and all we did was mess around and not learn anything. Why were you all feeling bad, Parrain?” 

“Something was trying to attack us.” 

“Oh, did you beat it?” Teddy asked. 

“You bet.” 

“Good! Dad and Papa were so worried today. Both of them fell asleep. I’ve never seen Dad fall asleep like that before.” 

“I’m sorry. It was my fault.” 

“Non, it was no fault of yours. I am only sorry that it was me she was trying to get to,” said Jean-Claude. “Rest assured, Teddy, that there will be no more issue of that happening.” 

“Well, you guys should clean up. I want your help!” He kissed both of them, and then hopped off the bed. 

Harry laughed and Jean-Claude hummed. “Child surely is a gem, mon Amour. You have raised him so wonderfully.” 

“It takes a village. There is a reason he has so many fathers and uncles.” He kissed Jean-Claude’s nose once more before resigning to not sleeping for the rest of the night. He had a child and a group of cats to take care of.

Edward, Micah, and Marcus had yet to return from wherever it was they went, and Harry had redressed to help Teddy with his homework. His Pard members wandered in and out, and Jean-Claude mused about Edward’s tastes. He was on the opposite side of Teddy who really didn’t need homework help. He just liked them there. 

“I am impressed.” 

“He did it on purpose. He was flaunting and shining me like a beacon for that assassin,” Harry huffed. 

“Naturally,” said Jean-Claude. 

“It was horrible. I hate that hotel. I’m never going there again, this is the second time.” 

Jean-Claude threw his head back and laughed. 

“Why don’t you like the hotel?” asked Teddy, not really knowing what they were talking about. 

“Because your Dad is too creative for his own good.” 

“Oh, whatever that means. I’ll just agree because you’re likely right.” 

Anyone in the vicinity who heard Teddy couldn’t help but laugh. Asher had wandered through the room. It was the first time he’d ever been in Harry’s house. 

“I heard that they were leaving?” 

“Oui, Asher. I think we will be free of their nightmares henceforth. It does not do to try and wiggle into mon Amour’s territory after all,” Jean-Claude said with a sly smile. 

Asher was confused. “What do you mean?” he asked, kneeling by the work table. He scanned Teddy’s homework who beamed and shimmied closer to him. “Why do you have to be an enchanting child?” 

“Cause I’m loved?” he tried, and Asher chuckled. 

“Perhaps.” 

“It is as we said. Belle Morte tried to step into Harry’s mind. Musette tried to drain me, and ended up draining him and our other two. Mon Amour trapped her, and now she is going to flee back to where they came from.” 

“Truly? But, she never flees.” 

“When she looks like an old hag, she does,” said Harry with a smirk making Asher tilt his head causing the curtain of gold to shuffle aside, revealing his scars. He seemed surprised when Teddy hadn’t even flinched at that. He must have been trying to mask them pretty hard. 

“I don’t understand?” 

“I showed her what I thought of her. I turned my nightmare into her own. You could say that because some of my magic was dealing with Musette I was left vulnerable to intrusion, but I should have known my devil doesn’t leave me alone for long and without protection.” 

Asher was even more confused. 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “Your riddling is driving him mad, mon Amour.” 

“What else am I supposed to say? The point is, Asher, no one can break into my mind without consequences. I warned them. You heard me at one point warning them against getting into my mind. It’s never a good place to be. She ignored the warnings, and she paid the price of it. Now, we have decided that our gift to Musette on Belle Morte’s behalf will be her life.” 

“You say this as if something else lives inside of you,” said Asher solemnly. 

“Something like that. Magic is attracted to magic, where do you think magic goes when someone dies? It has to go somewhere. Sometimes it goes in the ground where it nourishes the land. Or it goes into the air, and then there are times when someone stronger can absorb that magic and take it for their own.” 

“I understand that,” said Asher rubbing his chin.

“Yep, and I have it on good faith that she never seduced Merlin, she was unsuccessful,” Harry grinned smugly. Asher and Jean-Claude just looked at him blankly. 

“It’s not easy to mess with an average wizard, and it’s even harder to mess with someone with any sort of talent.” 

“Oui, his world is absolutely breathtaking, Asher. It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Magic flows everywhere you turn. They live and breath in their magic. It is not like the witches or the Fey that we know.” 

Harry reached over and took Asher’s hand. “In other words, she won’t bother you anymore. She won’t touch you.” 

“You can promise such?” 

“Yes,” said Harry. “I don’t think she wants what I did to her in my mind to happen in real life. You say we can’t kill her, but we can terrify her.” 

“She does not frighten.” 

“Unless she looks ugly.” 

Asher blinked. “You made her ugly?” 

“I showed her what I saw when I looked at her. Let’s just say my zombies are prettier than her.” 

His face was comical, and it had Jean-Claude grinning. “It is no use, mon ami to try and understand him. He is simply that edible.” 

“So, did you have fun with Draco?” Harry asked, shifting the conversation. If Asher was going to heal, it wouldn’t be fast. But it wouldn’t be excruciatingly slow. They would just have to show him and prove to him without resorting to sexual methods that he was worth a whole lot more than Belle believed. He thought Draco was a good option. If it could go further than a single night of fun. 

Asher smirked. “He was a most enchanting companion.” 

“He should be. He’s a pompous little git.” 

“I heard that,” Draco snarked as he swayed into the room. 

Harry grinned. “Love you too.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Everything back to normal?” 

“Almost. We have a few loose threads. Some issues going, and Edward and the rest have gone to do something, what I have no idea. You can never tell what he has planned. He was not happy with the Lieutenant.” 

“Yeah, about that, what the hell happened? We’ve had Detective Perry and several others calling for two days. I almost unplugged the phone,” said Draco with a huff as he dropped down. “Hey Teddy, you doing your homework? How are you getting anything done with all these people?” 

“It’s funner with a group!” said Teddy beaming. 

“More fun you mean.” 

“Yep! More Fun, Funnest, Funner. Fun!” 

Draco laughed. “Don’t let Hermione hear you.” 

Harry told him a short version causing Draco to blank out at that. “You’re kidding? What the bloody hell is wrong with him?” 

“I have a few theories, but it doesn’t excuse him,” said Harry. “I can’t and I won’t stop Edward from doing what he wants to do. I’m not stupid. At least, Zerbrowski is salvageable.” 

“Is that who you were with at the diner?” asked Jean-Claude. 

“Yeah, he was witness to Belle’s attack. Shockingly, he was well composed. I always thought he had a touch of magic sensitivity. Not enough to use or call upon it, but he’s one of the rare few who can see beyond the initial layers. He can make leaps and bounds where others have to work a lot harder. I always liked Zeze. He was the first one to really welcome me, and not treat me like I’m made of glass or like some alien with multiple heads.” 

It might have taken Teddy about two hours longer to do his homework between all the people to play and talk to, but he eventually got it done. Asher was sitting quietly in an armchair next to the sparkling fir tree. Jean-Claude had gone off with Jason to check on things in the community. 

Draco had taken a call from work about an out of state werefox wanting to open an account. Harry had been planning on making Christmas sweets for the rest of the night when he saw Asher sitting so still. 

Harry leaned down, hands on his knees and waited for Asher to notice him. He didn’t for some time. “Asher?” 

Asher didn’t blink, but his eyes moved slightly. “Mon cherie,” he smiled, and when he did it was beautiful. “I do not understand you much.” 

“Not many do. Merlin, even I don’t understand me.” 

“Draco is also one I do not understand.” 

“Now, Draco, he’s a bit easier for me. Git best friends typically are.” The perfect side of Asher’s lip twitched. “What’s not to understand? He’s a pompous snotty little shit who wants and needs everything, and can’t make a sandwich to save his life.” 

“Why is it I do not feel pity or disgust?” Asher asked. “Why is it, you were so insulted by those paintings when I am nothing to you? What cause would you or any of you have to even fight for me?” 

“Is that what you really want to know? Don’t you have the answers to those questions?” He shook his head. “You’re part of the family. You’re part of Jean-Claude’s family.” 

“But I swore revenge. I hated him.” 

“You hated him for the pain you were in. You didn’t hate him directly. Not really.” 

“Perhaps. How is it you don’t know me, but you knew the answer?” 

“I open my eyes. I listen. I try to hear what others tell me. It was not your fault or Julianna’s fault or Jean-Claude’s fault for what happened.” It was Belle, but he didn’t say it. He wasn’t sure if Asher could handle that truth. “But, envy and jealousy are powerful emotions. Ones that anything can have. The fact is you belong to us, and that’s all that matters. As for Draco, well, he’s a bit of a pompous Prince, but he’s a good sort. Now, he is. Once upon a time I would have clocked him just for being in the same room as me. Funny how enemies can be friends, hm?” 

“Indeed. Your home is enchanting. Your family, that child… he is a gift. It is not often that we are afforded such innocence. Unless you count Valentina and Bartolome.” 

Harry shuddered at the idea of the child vampire. “Some things children should never be.” 

“Oui. But, I do have another question for you, mon cherie.” 

“Sure?” 

“What sort of gift should I get for Draco?” 

Harry blinked at this. “To be honest, I don’t know. Draco has about everything, but I don’t think it’s the object itself that’s important. More than what it represents. Good luck with that.” 

Asher chuckled. “Yes, intriguing you all are. I thank you for sparing me from Musette.” 

“I’d spare an enemy from Musette just on principle.” 

“And then kill him?”

“Probably after he’s fed. Just can’t let anyone go hungry.” 

He heard Asher’s soft melodic laughter as he wandered out and back to his kitchen. He had Christmas sweets to make, and hopefully by then Edward and them would be home. It wasn’t long into making treats for the house when a crash from the front caught Harry’s attention. Poking his head into the hall revealed Stephen and Gregory curled around each other in front of the wide open door. 

“Stephen? Gregory? What’s going on?” He called down to them only to hear quiet whimpers in return. “Boys? Speak to me please.” Harry moved towards them while shutting the front door with magic. 

“Lupa…” Stephen looked up at Harry with dilated eyes. “He… He…”

Harry hunkered down next to both weres and lightly rested a hand on both backs. With soothing rubs, he waited for them to calm down enough to speak. Not long later, Harry was sitting on the floor with Stephen curled into his lap and Gregory leaning against him. 

“What’s going on you two?”

“Our father showed up. He came to the club during my set and demanded to meet with us.” Gregory whispered from where he was pressing his face into Harry’s neck. 

“Your father? How did he know where to find you? You use stage names there.” Harry asked, a bit baffled. 

“Don’t know…” Stephen cletched at Harry’s hips. “I refused to meet him. Told the bouncers no; but he forced his way backstage and cornered us.” 

“Said if we liked stripping so much he’d get us a ‘better crowd. Pull in more money’. He was kicked out by Buzz and another bouncer; but what if we get kicked out?” Gregory squeezed Harry in his fright. 

“Easy Gregory, easy. No one is kicking you out of Guilty Pleasures nor this house. You are safe here from him. Jean will see that that man is barred from all of his establishments.” Harry pet Gregory’s hair. “He’s clearly violated the restraining order I had put on him for you both. He’s not allowed within 200 feet of you. That means he can’t enter Guilty Pleasures while you’re there.” 

“What restraining order?” Stephen turned enough so that he could look up at Harry.

“When I learned about what that man did to both of you I got a judge to draw up a restraining order that was then mailed to him. He’s not to be within 200 feet of you or contact you in any way.” Harry explained as the front door opened. 

“Any reason you three are on the floor, Baby?” Micah asked as he, Edward, and Marcus entered the house. 

“Someone ignored their restraining order.” Harry saw as Marcus instantly picked up on what he was talking about. “Remember when my first order when I became Lupa was to draw up a restraining order?” 

“Come on boys, off your Nimir-Ra now.” Micah coaxed Gregory up from the floor while Marcus got Stephen. Edward came up behind Harry and pulled him up, trapping him in his arms from behind.

“We have a guest,” said Edward, causing Harry to blink. 

“Huh?” 

“Good to see you again, Harry.” It was Agent Bradley Bradford of the FBI. He was only a little taller than Harry with perfect cut blond brown hair, and as with most FBI agents he wore a dark tailored suit and a navy blue tie. 

“Agent Bradford!” Now that was a surprise. What on earth was Edward planning? “Don’t tell me you brought an agent here to sick on Dolph.” 

“You should know better than that. I don’t need to sick anyone on that man. He’s going to make his own bed in time.” 

“Indeed,” said Bradley with a smirk. He then looked in concern to the blondes that clung to Marcus and Micah. “Is everything alright here?” 

“Domestic situation,” said Harry darkly. “Stephen, Gregory. Go upstairs and take a hot bath. I’ll take care of everything else.” 

Both of them looked like they wanted to protest, but Marcus cleared his throat, and Stephen bobbed his head, and the twins went off upstairs. 

“Teddy!” Harry called a little louder than usual, and Teddy came running. 

“Yes, Parrain? Ooh, hi, Brad!” Teddy beamed. 

Bradley smiled. “Hello kiddo, how are you doing?” 

“Wonderful! What do you need, Parrain?” asked Teddy tilting his head. He spared hugs for everyone that had returned. 

“I need you to go and keep Gregory and Stephen company.” 

“Are they hurt?” he asked softly. His eyes flickering over to where he could smell Stephen and Gregory having disappeared up the stairs. 

“On the inside.” 

“Okay. I go hug them to death.” He stomped off with all the pride of an eight year old. 

“He’s getting so big, and smart,” said Bradley. 

“You know it. Sorry you saw us all on the floor, they came in devastated. I’ll be having words with that man. He’s not to be within two hundred feet of those two or contact them in any way.” 

“He ignored a restraining order?” asked Bradley. 

“Yes. He’s probably on camera where the two of them work. You want some coffee?” 

“Please, it’s been a long night.” 

“And it’s going to get longer,” said Edward squeezing Harry a bit tighter. “Where’s Jean-Claude?” 

“He went to check in at Riverfront. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone.” 

“We know,” said Micah, shaking his head. “It was quite embarrassing to be pulled under in front of the agent.” 

“Merlin, you were dragged in?” He thought they only felt what happened rather than saw it. 

“I admit I still don’t quite understand what happened,” said Agent Bradley. 

“Perhaps we should leave the Entrance Hall and be somewhere more comfortable and fitting? We have a lot to go through.” 

“Of course! How rude of me,” said Harry becoming the perfect host causing Micah to chuckle, and Edward to smirk. “Who is hungry? We still have hot food. I was in the process of making some Christmas treats for everyone.” He slipped out of Edward’s arms and moved at a rabbit's pace. 

“Does he ever slow down?” asked Bradly amused. 

“Only when we force him to,” said Micah as he turned and followed after Harry.

“He’d never sleep if we don’t,” Marcus chuckled dryly. 

“Well, if the Agent wants a good lesson in the preternatural, he’s sure to get it tonight,” said Edward in his best Ted smile. 

“That is always a bonus,” said Bradley with a nod. “It really is a shame when good men transform into something unrecognizable. It happens more than you think.” 

“There is that substantial suicide rate,” said Marcus. 

Bradley winced. “Yes.” 

His kitchen smelled like Christmas cookies, peppermint, and chocolate. He always had hot fresh coffee brewing at all times, and passed out mugs with the help of Micah. 

“For the record, Ted is already aware as he made sure when he came to me that what is said is granted immunity. I also have it writing. In an effort to learn and share resources. As you know our division is still in its infancy stages, and any knowledge is good knowledge, no matter it’s source.” 

“It’s not like we’ve done anything illegal,” said Harry. 

“No, but I wanted the protection, Little Raven,” said Edward.

“Everything said tonight will make it to no one’s ears. You have my word on that,” said Bradley. “After what happened in New Mexico, and my own mistake that has caused issues I believe that is the least I could offer.”

“It probably helps that if you look at the St. Louis statistics in Preternatural crime you’ll find that it’s the lowest in the United States,” Edward said. 

“You’re right.” 

“Most of what happens is from outsiders,” said Micah as he settled against the counter next to Harry, their leopards taking the opportunity to greet each other. “Unfortunately, some groups are all about trying to gather territory. Trying to dominate and take land from others. Some come in for the sheer pleasure of wrecking havoc and causing as much destruction as they can.” 

“Some want to be illegal again,” Harry said. “So that they can go on a feeding frenzy and hurt others. I assure you though it’s mostly the old ones who don’t like change. Most of those don’t even live in America.” 

“So, what happened exactly? You can speak freely,” said Edward to Harry. 

That was new. Edward never told him he could speak freely unless it was with their own. “Shortly after you left, Zerbrowski called. He’s not Dolph. He’s a good guy, you know? He’s always been able to see underneath the underneath. He makes leaps and bounds where others just can’t put it together. Anyway, I got a nasty visit from Belle Morte.” 

“Who is Belle Morte?” asked Bradley for clarification. 

“She is the Head of one of the oldest and rarest bloodlines,” Harry told him. “She’s a fountainhead, they call her a sourdre de sang. As you can imagine most hail from France.”

“Can I write some of these terms down?” 

“Have at it.” 

“What kind of powers do these heads have?” asked Bradley. 

“It varies. Each one is different than the other,” said Harry shifting the snickerdoodles that were cooling on racks. “But, a lot of them have the ability to hop into their children from time to time.” 

“Like possession?” 

“Yes and no. But not all vampires have to be in front of you to try and manipulate you.” 

“Good to know.” 

“I have a natural ability against it. But a small chink allowed her in to try and mess with me. I sent her on a goose chase, and then trapped her. Ask any magical person, most of them can boast a good defense in mind magic and manipulation. Even the most mundane. I pretty much forced her out of us. Forced her to leave. She had sent an envoy who tried to remotely suck the Master of the City dry. It didn’t work. Instead it was sucking me dry.” 

“Why you?” 

“My connection with Jean-Claude,” he told Bradley. “Also, Jean-Claude is no longer part of her bloodline.” He looked at Edward when he said this. “He’s his own Sourdre de Sang.” 

“Good to know. She’s now killable.” 

Harry gave him a nod. “But, I think it’s best if we leave her alone for now.” He then whispered in his mind.  _ “I’ll explain that later.”  _ “I beat her fair and square, and she bowed out. She’s taking her envoy and leaving the country. Let’s just say that my magic did not agree with her, and very nearly turned her into a vegetable.” 

“Why leave her alone? There is enough evidence to see to her restrainment. Invasion of any human is grounds for instant execution,” said Bradley. 

“Pick and choose your battles. Like a criminal informant. No matter how big and bad one master is you will find there is always something bigger and badder out there, and having an ally whether tenuous or not is always something you have to look at.” 

Bradley hummed. “Makes sense.” 

“Most vampires love mind games. If you want to end a fight with an ancient one without resorting to a lot of deaths and bloodshed, play their game and win if you can.” 

“Sounds like the political system.” 

“Exactly,” said Micah laughing as he snagged a snickerdoodle, and smirking as Harry huffed. 

“I didn’t finish the cinnamon sprinkles.” 

“Perfect as is,” he said grinning, grabbing Harry’s wrist and pulled him into a quick kiss before letting him get back to his cookies. “I can’t believe you have that in you to be honest,” said Micah shuddering. He wrapped one arm around Harry as he continued working. “That thing is creepy!” 

“What?” asked Bradley. 

“He’s not real in the physical sense. It's just his magic. But, he’s my defense system. He’s always been there. When he died, his magic pretty much got into me, and I house it. Allowing him to become a part of my metaphysical defenses. I conquered my enemy, and that was what Belle Morte feared most. She’d be sucked in, and become mine.” 

“I’m lost,” said Bradley. 

“It is quite a defense. I was impressed,” said Edward. 

“Knew you would be. It’s - hard to explain unless you see it. But, I outsmarted her. I outtricked her, found her fears, and used it against her.” 

Bradley was thoughtful. “So because of your ties to the Master of the City, she tried to worm her way in. Why? What was the point?” 

“Just because she can? Most vampires don’t have big reasons. Sometimes it’s out of fear, sometimes it’s out of enjoyment because they have nothing better to do. Other times it's out of revenge or scorn.” 

“A very human-kind series of reasons,” said Bradley. “Learning the psyche of a vampire would be instrumental in our work.” 

“They’re not human, but they once were, and sometimes when they cross over they take their strongest traits with them. Sometimes it twists them into the worst sort, other times they defy expectations. Jean-Claude was never supposed to get strong, but he had enough humanity in him that they couldn’t stomp out. He is a lot of exceptions to rules. I don’t trust blindly, I judge based on an individual, and even I know that playing with vampires can come at a great cost if one isn’t careful.” 

“Let me guess, a lot of people don’t like him having power?” 

“Nope because they once treated him as if he would never be anything only to one day discover that he’s stronger than they expected. But, like me, he knows how to use that power without it corrupting him. He’s learned, he’s watched. If only more people were Masters of the City like him.” 

“If only,” said Micah, reaching for another snickerdoodle. By this time they were done, and Marcus had one with his coffee. 

Edward didn’t like cinnamon much, but he did like the cookies with the pecans in it. It wasn’t nearly as sweet. Just a subtle hint with a bit of salt and crunch. 

“Now that vampire fun is out of the way, what’s going on?” Harry asked, laying a couple cookies in front of Edward, and moving to take a break. It was amazing what could be done while talking. Harry was a master at multitasking. Merlin, he had to be. He’d gotten four large trays of sweets done in the time they were talking. Some were baking in the wall ovens, and Bradley seemed endlessly amused and a touch confused. 

He wondered what the confusion was all about. 

“Ted informed me about the spies in town. I want to first apologize to you again. It’s part of the reason why I’m here. I got wind about a week ago that an infiltration group entered the country. Most were under alias, but when Ted gave us Roy Van Anders, and as soon as I took a look at the crime scene photos, I knew we were dealing with the spooks. Once again I am sorry.” 

“It’s not really on you, Agent,” said Harry. “You didn’t pull me with the intention to get noticed. Just to try and hire me, though I have to decline.” 

“Yes, I can see you have a very big life here in St. Louis, and our job takes us all over the US and even outside it at times.” 

Harry nodded. “Exactly. I was honored you even thought of me. I do like working with the Feds. Sometimes the locals and backwoods police can be too much when it comes to my expertise.” 

“Yes, most are still living in a hole in the ground. You will be pleased to know we hired a vampire last month. He’s been an invaluable member so far.” 

“I told you. It’s not like I’m saying just choose anyone, but to fight out some of these forces sometimes you need the same force. You don’t take a toothpick into a fight against solid marble unless you’re this guy.” He nodded to Edward who smirked. 

“I think that’s more your territory, Little Raven. You do have that wand of yours that looks oh so innocent.” 

“There are good guys out there and bad guys. I’ve met both. I’ve met some of the sweetest and most kind hearted vampires, and then I’ve met some of the most ruthless. It’s the same with shifters and every other creature out there including human. I have kitties in this very house that wouldn’t hurt a fly. Most just don’t have a sense of direction or know where to go. It’s why there are packs and clans and whatnot.”

“Let’s talk about Van Anders. I don’t know as much as I wanted to, but I know what we were dealing with,” said Edward. 

Bradley nodded. “Most of his crimes were in countries where we’re lucky to have gotten any pictures at all. Very low tech, very little money to do any sophisticated work. But we’ve been watching him and his ilk for some time. Rumor had it that he was working with a man named Heinrick, and we had hoped he wasn’t.” 

“Who is Heinrick.” 

“No one really knows, but we know he’s a spook. He’s involved in everything, but mostly espionage. I do believe they’ve arrived in town for you. To get your attention. I told you back in New Mexico that someone had pulled your file after me. It got flagged, and then it disappeared. You have talents, Harry. Ones that most Spooks would kill to have.” 

“Did the government agree to this man? This Anders?” asked Marcus. 

“No country in their right mind would choose this monster as one of their own. However, Heinirick is another story, and teams are assembled under the radar. Most know that most will house a terrorist or something dark. As long as the government doesn’t know, and they get what they want out of the agent in question they don’t care.” 

“You know quite a lot about this spook business,” Harry acknowledged. 

Bradley sighed and rubbed his forehead, and his hand slid down to his eyes. “These murders were brought to our attention before Ted came to get me. But I’ve seen crimes like this before. In a different country, in a place where the government was more worried about staying in power than protecting helpless women.” 

“You were one of them,” said Micah. 

“Yes.” He turned to Edward. “You knew when you called me, how did you know?” 

“Would you believe a hunch?” Ted came out with a blinding boyish smile that had Harry glaring silently. 

“Hardly, but I’m not asking,” said Bradley with a dry smile. “Men like Van Anders were one of the reasons I couldn’t keep doing it. But when certain people found out that Van Anders might actually have been let loose within the confines of the United States, they weren’t happy. I have a one time permission to help things along here. Also, I’m also here to keep an eye on your Lieutenant. To make sure he doesn’t blow this entire operation with his misconduct.” 

Harry cringed at the idea of the FBI breathing down Dolph’s back and all because of him. “All over little ol’ me?” 

“You’re more than little, Harry. You’re invaluable, and a good person. Someone we desperately need on the force. I won’t have you bullied because someone lost their heads. I didn’t even need to be talked into it as the moment I saw the pictures, I could deduce what happened. If you’re going to snap it’s always best to do it in therapy, and someone hasn’t been watching their men enough to catch it before it hit.” 

“It’s always the problem. Too many officers stretched thin, and an even smaller budget,” said Edward. 

Harry sighed. “In Dolph’s defense. He’s never done anything like that before. Hell, if only he’d just yelled at me. I could let it wash off my back. It’s no big deal, but…” 

“He touched you. He did not have that right,” said Marcus. 

“From what Zeze told me, he’s got third degree burns on his hands,” said Harry. 

“Is that why your arms were burned?” 

“When someone grabs me without my permission, my magic sometimes reacts. Most tend to, but mine is different because of what happened when I was a baby. My mother died to protect me, which in our world sometimes forms a connection. A magical connection. A defense system is cast over the one being protected, and it sometimes lingers forever. It’s why my relatives rarely ever touched me directly when I was a kid. If you touch me too long and I or my magic doesn’t want it, my magic sends pulses. But I was so sick that day, barely conscious to the point that my driver and escort for the day, who was just outside and a werewolf, couldn’t even hear me screaming when I thought I was straining myself.” 

“That’s what they told me,” said Bradley nodding. “I’ll make sure things are a bit smoother, and take that into account, but if he does that to you, I do not want a repeat.” 

“It’s a stressful job at times. Some of them have seen the worst of the worst,” said Harry. 

“But, he was the only one to snap, the one they needed the most snapped,” said Bradley shaking his head. “It’s not only you Harry, but he’s a liability, and right now the force can’t afford a liability.” 

His timer began to ding, and Harry was up again, and more snacks and treats were pulled out to let cool. 

“Have you baked enough?” Bradley asked jokingly. 

“I don’t know, have I?” Harry asked curiously. 

Micah looked at the silver platters and racks; chin on Harry’s shoulder allowing his leopard to nuzzle Harry’s. “I think about two more will do it. You know how Rafael’s group can get. You should make those peppermint white fudge pretzels, I love those things!”

Edward’s nose twitched. “Dark chocolate is much less sweet inducing.” 

“We’ll see,” said Harry grinning. 

“I guess I know now why you have four ovens,” chuckled Bradley. 

“No one goes hungry in this house,” said Harry placing them onto the island to cool. 

“Can I ask a rather personal question? Off the record.” Bradley leaned forward on the table looking at all of the guys in the room. 

“Sure.” Harry shrugged.

“Who exactly are you seeing?”

“Seeing?” Harry asked confused, growing more so at Edward’s grin. 

“All.” Micah purred, and Harry could just mentally see Micah’s leopard preening with pride. His tail metaphorically flickering with an excitement. If it was real, Harry’d pull it just because. 

“All? He is in a relationship with all of you?”

“And the Master of the City.” Marcus pitched in. 

“Jean, Edward, Micah, Marcus, and I are all seeing each other.” Harry explained with barely a blush. 

“A vampire, two humans, and two weres?” Bradley asked delicately, eyeing Marcus. 

“Off the record?”

“Off the record.” Bradley nodded seriously.

“Yes, but if it gets out I lose my job and get bogged down in potential legal battles. I am very careful about them staying separate and my pack is careful too.”

“Your pack?”

“We’re all leaders here, Bradley.” Edward smirked at Harry. “Except for Little Raven.”

“Oi!”

“Power bottom.” Micah snickered softly to Bradley.

“No one will be revealed because of me. Not by choice.” Marcus nodded in acknowledgement of the promise. Harry knew he wasn’t concealing it because of the memory of when Harry saved his job before they got together. Harry would hate to do it to Bradley, but he would obliviate him and anyone else needed in order to save his men’s livelihoods. “Just an interesting concept. Do you all get along?” 

“For the most part,” said Micah grinning. 

“So, not too many Alpha’s in the mix?” Bradley asked, looking from one to the other. 

“We play very well together,” said Marcus, and at this Harry’s ardeur almost came spinning out when Micah leaned over and kissed Marcus square on the lips. The two alphas were trying to work on it, but still had issues at times as leaders. 

“Little Raven is something of a wild card. He needs careful handling at times,” Edward drawled. “Not to mention watching has benefits.” 

Bradley was in another world, almost blushing, and it was impressive because Bradley had to be near or older than Marcus. 

“Careful handling?” Micah drawled tilting his head as if examining a work of art. “If that’s the case, Edward, then you’re excluded.” 

“I should have included force.” 

Harry by now was actually blushing, and it caused the men to smirk at him. Bradley didn’t know whether to laugh or feel pity on Harry’s behalf, and so he settled for neutral. 

“If left alone too long, the Little Raven has a habit of getting into trouble.” 

“Oi!” Harry squawked. “And you don’t, Mr. New Mexico? Do I need to remind you of our newest stray? Or how about you, Mr. Running Man? Or even you, Mr. Perfect!” He jabbed at each one of them. 

“And what is Jean-Claude?” Micah asked with a grin. 

“Mr. Pain In Our Arse, but he’s too pretty.” Micah was practically rolling, and Marcus was chuckling. 

Edward hummed. “I suppose it would work.” 

“I’d call him Mr. Beautiful, but this isn’t about looks.” Harry was up, and grabbing bags of pretzels from a cupboard. 

Bradley started chuckling. “I must say, I’ve learned a lot tonight.” 

“If it works, why stop?” asked Micah grinning. 

“So, all the leaders are in a relationship with each other? That might be why St. Louis is usually a peaceful place on the Preternatural front.” 

“Except Rafael, but he’s more like my big brother,” said Harry. 

“Except that one time,” Micah snarked. Almost immediately the man suddenly erupted into a flurry of flailing giggles that had him releasing Harry and rolling on the floor. “Harry!  _ No! Please! No _ !” 

Bradley’s eyes widened. “What did you do?” 

“Don’t think I didn’t hear the Power Bottom comment,  _ lover _ .”

His high-pitched squeals and laughter was all the house heard, no one bothered to check on him. Everyone knew that Micah had done something. Everyone was used to it.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweatdrops* Forgot to say this last chapter.... *coughs into pretend microphone* 
> 
> Thank you Zsfantasy for pointing out that with the posting of Chapter 9 back on Sunday this series hit 1 MILLION words! *tosses confetti* Thank you readers for reading 1m+ of our words and for continuing with us on this crazy journey. \\(n_n)/

Harry had gone up to check on the twins, Gregory and Stephen were fast asleep and between them was Teddy. Goodness, they looked so cute. Once upon a time they’d had separate rooms, and hardly went near each other, but that had changed when Harry took both of them for his own. Now they were hardly separated. It didn’t matter if one was wolf and the other leopard, they were brothers. 

He tucked all three in. Their room was a two tone of colors, blue and lilac, and it had butterflies that were animated and racing across the walls. The carpet was a plush blue, and most of the furniture was a soft white. 

“Lupa?”

It was Marcus. Harry smiled, and looked over his shoulder. “Look at them.” 

“I see, are they okay?” 

“Not with that bastard in town,” said Harry as Marcus locked his arms around him. 

“I never did get the full story.” 

“They were children when the father pulled a Raina on them. No more than five or six. I’m going to kill him.” 

“Let me,” said Marcus. 

“You can’t be seen.” 

“No, Stephen is ours, and I’m his Ulfric. Gregory is yours, and by proxy he’s mine too. I’ll settle it.” 

“I don’t want them out anywhere alone until he’s gone.” 

“I’ll stick Jamil on them both,” said Marcus with a nod. He pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s ear and dragged it down to his jaw. Harry sighed and exposed his neck, giving his Ulfric access. His skin buzzed and burned as he reached back to touch the man’s hard stomach. 

“You’re going to get me started.” 

“My Lupa, too enticing for his own good.” 

“Hn,” Harry breathed as he shuffled in Marcus’ arms, and looped his arms around his neck. They shared a deep open mouthed kiss that could have dragged him under so very easily. Merlin, his men were absolutely delicious. Each one was so different with their unique brand of flavor and touch. He yearned for them all, and Marcus was never supposed to be their core. Harry wasn’t supposed to get attached as he was becoming, and yet somehow here he was. 

“Did you not sate your ardeur?” Marcus asked in jest. 

“It is not the ardeur that calls me, Ulfric,” Harry’s words came out in a silky soft purr. “Long before the ardeur touched me, I hungered or is your age catching up to you?” He squealed when Marcus squeezed him extra tight. 

“Rude, Lupa. A very rude remark you just made.” 

“Mhmm, rude enough to make you do things to me.” 

“If only we did not have a guest to entertain.” 

Harry sulked. “I want bent over,” he writhed against Marcus, and pushed his own energy into him causing a hiss and low snarl. “If I’m ruder will you bend me over?” 

“Bad Lupa,” Marcus grinned, and he bit down on Harry’s bottom lip drawing his probing tongue out making Harry suck him in. 

He loved being able to take and feel his men outside the ardeur, and it did take some courage to pull himself away. He had to be good. “I’ll be good,” he said with a pout. 

“You don’t have to be good all night, Lupa,” said Marcus as they pushed their way out of the room. A hand swept down the curve of his bottom, and then slapped it causing Harry to yelp. “You did say something rude enough,” he tugged at Harry’s wild hair, and bit down on his neck. 

Harry moaned as Marcus’ teeth pierced his skin, his fingers sliding between the white leather that formed tight over his cheeks. “Surprised no one has bent you over wearing this.” 

“Caleb tried,” Harry snickered. “But I said no. I wanted one of you.” 

Marcus groaned against his skin, and fisted a handful of Harry’s bottom. “Is that what you really want? Just us?” 

“Yes,” said Harry. “I won’t let this ardeur take control of me. I always want you. All of you. Any time, any day, and any fucking where.” 

“Beautiful, Lupa. How do we deny your requests?” Marcus hissed. “You proclaimed I was yours tonight. I was surprised.” 

“Don’t be,” Harry turned, and drew Marcus into him. “I did call you Mr. Perfect.” 

Marcus smirked. “Even with my age?” 

“I love everything about you. Just means you have a lot to teach your Lupa,” Harry said pushing closer. 

“Indeed, I do. Come on, let’s not be rude hosts. I am not sure the agent will understand if he comes up here to find you bent over in a hall.” 

“He seems pretty together so far.” 

“Only because it’s you and he hasn’t seen us live and in action.” 

“I’m surprised Edward took a chance on letting me say anything informative,” Harry was trying to calm down. Trying to lower the blood pressure that soared through his veins. But it was hard, his hand kept rubbing Marcus’ jumper, and trying to feel the lines of his hard body. 

“I don’t know exactly what transpired, but the two seem to have some sort of agreement. It does make a man wonder.” 

“You get used to it. Edward will say what Edward wants in his own time or not at all.” 

“You learn to accept it.” 

“Mhmm because that’s who he is.” 

“You accept us for all of us, don’t you?’ 

“I wouldn’t want you any different.” Harry kissed his jaw, and took in another breath. “Okay. No more playing. Downstairs we go! I have pretzels to work on.” 

It was like whenever they touched him, a switch would turn on. It didn’t matter whether it was a kiss or just a light innocent pet. It had nothing to do with the ardeur and everything to do with how he felt about them. 

He never got a chance to finish his pretzels because Peter who had been out walking through the woods had returned. “You’re filthy,” said Harry plucking a leaf off his shoulder. 

“Is Ted here?” Peter asked with an odd expression. 

“Yeah, inside the kitchen. Everything okay?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What is it?” asked Marcus. 

Peter frowned. “Just not sure. Maybe it’s nothing, but if it is something I need to let him know.” 

Bradley and Edward were talking in the kitchen. Micah was already dipping Harry’s pretzels, and then rolling them into the peppermint sprinkles. 

“Hey kid,” said Edward. “What’s going on?” 

“Not sure, but I was taking my usual walk, and I saw a light flash over the graveyard across the street.” That had everyone’s attention. 

“That’s not usual,” said Harry. 

“No it’s not.” 

“Maybe it’s just a bunch of kids?” Bradley suggested. 

“I’m not sure. It seemed weird, I didn’t see anybody in particular. Just flashes of light, like a flashlight or even a camera’s light. You know how bright those can be.” 

Edward was already on his feet. “Looks like we need to check it out.” 

“You mind if I tag along?” asked Bradley. 

“A chance it could be nothing, but after what we’ve uncovered I’d rather it be nothing than be something and we ignored it,” said Edward. 

It was then that the door opened to the kitchen. “Guys, something hinky is going on at the graveyard.” It was Jason. “I saw a car pull up, and then drive away. An hour later I saw another one.” 

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Did you recognize anyone?” 

“I didn’t see anybody get in or out,” said Jason with a frown. 

“Spies can’t actually see the house,” Harry informed Bradley. “No one can that I don’t want to see it.” 

Bradley arched a brow. “How can I?” 

“I want you to.” Harry smirked. 

Bradley chuckled. “That’s some good defense you have.” 

“You bet it is,” said Harry. “I even have my house warded against zombies.” 

“Who is the new guy? You look like a Fed.” 

“I am, Agent Bradford. You?” 

“Jason Shuyler!” 

“Jason’s a good friend, and he’s been staying with me the last few days,” Harry told Bradley. 

“Did Little Raven do that to you?” Edward observed checking his weapons, and casting an eye on Jason. 

Jason grinned. “Yup. Pity he didn’t follow through.” 

“Not when she had hold of me,” said Harry. “Merlin knows what she’d do to you through me.” 

“Might have been worth it.” 

Bradley laughed. “Another lover?” he theorized causing everyone to either laugh or grin. 

“No, he’s a great friend,” said Harry. 

“Harry has needs, I am the lucky dude who gets to fill them when you know, everyone else is busy.” He looked downright proud of himself. 

Bradley blinked, and Harry let out a groan as his face started to burn. “Jason, don’t say it like that! I sort of have an issue that requires - erm - handling.” 

“As I said, careful handling,” said Edward. “But, we can discuss your appetite at a later date. For now we need to find out what is going on at that graveyard.” 

“Do you think it’s wise we all go down there?” asked Bradley. 

“It is,” said Micah. “If you come in from one side, they could go the other way.” He accepted the gun from Edward, and worked it pretty easily. 

“Always best to box them in,” said Edward. “Give them no outlet.” 

“It makes no sense for even teenagers to be in that graveyard,” said Marcus logically. “We’re surrounded by forests with nothing on either side for miles.” 

“Some of the Black’s were pretty serious about their privacy.” Harry had his wand in his hand. “Being Federal Marshalls is a good thing at times.” 

“Okay. Let’s do this then,” said Bradley, not even bothering to ask if the guns were registered. 

Marcus had a beretta, which was actually registered to him. A gift from Edward. Of course it was. There was no need to show themselves as weres unless it was a dire circumstance, and instead of going out the front, they took the back way out. Jason joined them with Peter staying back. Edward promised to make it up to him. 

Harry cast a disillusion charm on them, and they split up on all sides. Marcus and Bradley on one side, Micah and Jason the other, and Harry and Edward straight down the middle. If only they had two more they could truly box them in, but with disillusion charms they shouldn’t be seen. If there was a were among them, they might be heard and smelled; but that was a risk they would have to take. 

Harry’s graveyard was always what he termed a cowboy cemetery. It was just off the main road, it was old, and most of the headstones were either stone points that were faded and blackened from weather and age or they were flat rounded stone like typical that were tipped over completely or leaning heavily to one side. If this was the summer time the weeds would have risen waist high, and dandelions and wildflowers would make their home there. But as such, the grass was dry and dead. It wasn’t very big. No more than two dozen graves at most. It was likely a family graveyard. Hell, for all Harry knew it was a Black family cemetery. 

There was hardly any Death Magic, most of it had dried up ages ago except for a small trickle that was likely from his own property’s wards. He would have to remember to blanket the graveyard in the future. He hadn’t counted on anyone actually using it. No one had been buried there for a long time. Edward and Harry krept silently forward, and tried to keep to the shadows of the moon that was growing a bit more full by the night. 

Beyond some of the fallen graves and hidden behind one of the concrete points was a flash of a light, and a stirring. 

Harry and Edward spied a billed cap.  _ So stupid _ , Harry thought.  _ If these people were really trying to stay incognito they would have hidden amongst the trees or in a tree _ . People rarely ever looked up, even Harry. 

But Edward? Edward always looked up. 

Harry couldn’t see the others, but he could feel them closing in quietly, everyone’s guns slowly rising as they moved into position. 

“It’s pointless being here. We can’t see shit.” 

“Doesn’t matter. We can see them going in. We just need the boy.” 

_ Boy, really _ , Harry hated being called a boy. Now he wanted to shoot one if only on principle. “With what evidence? It was lost!” 

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is we saw it.” 

“I think the party is over fellas,” said Bradley out of nowhere, and the two men made to bolt only for Harry and Edward to stand in their way and take down the disillusion charm that suddenly had guns pointed at the noses of each. Harry had the blond, and Edward had the capped man. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Harry coldly. He unveiled the others with a snap of his fingers. Bradley and Marcus came around on Harry’s side and Micah and Jason on the other. 

“Shit,” hissed the blond. 

“Shit indeed,” said Micah smirking.

“You can’t kill us, you’re a Fed,” said the cap man. 

Bradley smiled humorlessly. “I’m just a friend tonight, boys.” 

“Besides we only need one of you,” said Edward blankly. “So, which is it going to be? Why are you here?” But both were refusing to speak, and if they were with anyone other than Bradley, Edward would have shot one in the leg if only to make a point. 

The blond said something quick and harsh in German, and Bradley took in a deep whistling breath as if in recognition. 

“I’ll call it in.” 

“Do we have to?” asked Micah. 

“Yes, they may be who we are looking for in the first place,” said Bradley stepping back and Marcus replacing him. He pulled out his phone to call it in. 

“Why are you in the graveyard?” 

“Just camping out,” said the billed cap. “Not a crime is it? We’re not digging up bodies.” The other hissed something unintelligible causing the capped man to go quiet. 

“In a graveyard?” 

“We were drunk.” 

“You don’t smell like you’re drunk,” said Micah. 

“Knew one of them had to be furry,” hissed the billed one. 

“Alcohol is pungent. Anyone can smell alcohol ya bloody git,” said Harry as both of them turned to look at him. “And who I have in my house is none of your bloody business.” It was hard to keep their guns up, the lactic acid often built in the arms, and Harry didn’t doubt that the two were just waiting on that to happen. But, Harry and Edward timed it perfectly. Marcus and Micah had their lowered, and so when they stepped up, Harry and Edward took one step back to lower their own. 

Bradley returned to their side. “Police are on their way.” 

Harry was thinking they could have made it a whole lot easier. Harry liked Bradley, but sometimes the human law sucked. He looked at Edward who read his mind without even needing to. 

Edward could have taken the blond for questioning. He seemed to be the more important of the two. He could have gotten the man to squeal everything, and then the whole situation would be over.

Oh well, it couldn’t be that bad could it?

“Why do I jinx myself?” It was a half hour later that found Harry alone and waiting to be spoken to. Each one of his men, including Bradley had been taken aside for questioning. Come to find out, they discovered a lot of illegal firearms on the two men. It had been amongst the graves, and they tried to claim it wasn’t theirs, but like anyone would believe that. 

A lot of people said hi to Harry upon entering the police station. Harry might not have been an official member, but he was treated like one. 

It was Detective Jessica Arnet that finally said something that wasn’t just a hello. He was sitting at Zerbrowski’s desk waiting on the man. 

“Where’s that cutie you always have in tow?” 

Harry blinked at the woman. “Which one?” he asked for clarification. He had a lot of cuties. 

She laughed at that, and blushed a little. Harry was still confused. “You do seem to have more than your share of cuties around you, Harry. But I meant the one with the violet eyes.” 

Harry scanned all the men he knew, and Nathaniel popped to mind. Ah, Nathaniel always joined him in grocery shopping, and they’d ran into her a few times while out doing exactly that. “Ah, he stayed at home today.” 

She laid the stack of folders on a desk, not her own, and pushed back her hair from her face. There wasn’t enough of her dark hair to push back. It looked like an old gesture. “What are you doing here this late at night?” 

“Looking for Zerbrowski.” 

She told him what room he was in, and Harry thanked her before making himself scarce. Harry headed in that direction, not giving a damn that he probably shouldn’t be there. Harry had to go on his tiptoes to see outside the door in the little window. Unlike television there really wasn’t a massive one-way mirror that took up an entire wall. Sometimes there was a small thin one, but not a huge one. 

Harry frowned when he saw Jason sitting at a little table, Zerbrowski was sitting across from him, and he would gather it was routine if Dolph hadn’t been leaning against the far wall. He was on leave, and he had nothing to do with the men in the graveyard. 

So why were they questioning Jason? He saw Zerbrowski shake his head toward Dolph. Harry fell back on his feet and made to knock when the door opened. Harry almost knocked on his face. 

“Harry.” Zerbrowski winced. 

“What’s going on, Zerbrowski?” 

“I was hoping you could answer that.” 

“He shouldn’t be in here,” Dolph growled. 

Zerbrowski squared his shoulders. “We asked for his help on the crime scene. He has a right, Dolph.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“Actually, yeah, you did,” said Harry coldly. 

Dolph opened his mouth, then closed it in a tight thin line. He hugged his arms so tight it looked like it had to have hurt. He noticed there were bandages on his hands as well. Good for him. He had such rage in his eyes. But, Harry didn’t care. 

“Jason is only here because of what happened in the graveyard.” 

“Graveyard?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“Uh, yeah. It seems men have been spying on me lately, and we discovered two of them across the street from my house at the graveyard.” 

“Spying? What for?” 

Harry shrugged. “No idea. Jason was with me and the others when we rounded them up.” 

“What time?” 

“Uhm, about an hour or so ago?” 

“And before that? After you dropped me off?” Zerbrowski asked, causing Dolph to glower. 

“Uhm, he was with me at my house.” 

“Can you confirm that?” asked Dolph through gritted teeth. 

“About everyone in the house can confirm it,” said Harry, knowing that Jason had gone off with Jean-Claude, but that didn’t matter. Bradford knew no different. “Most everyone is here, including Agent Bradford.” 

“It’s a big house. He could slip off unnoticed, I hear shifters are fast,” Dolph replied. 

“Not that fast,” Jason muttered. “Unless you’re Alpha, and I’m not.” 

“He’s a werewolf and he’s got defensive wounds,” Dolph hissed. “If he didn’t rape our vic, then he raped somebody!” 

“You’re here to observe, Lieutenant,” said Zerorbwoski, but his face said plainly that he would have rather been anywhere than sitting here telling Dolph to mind his own business. 

“Jason didn’t rape anybody. He’s been with me for days!” Harry declared. 

“Even when you were out?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Yeah, he never left my side. I know this because I woke up in random intervals. He went nowhere. Besides, my house is about ten miles from any development depending on which way you go. You go another way, and you’re driving for a hell of a long time or running if you think that’s the case. Dr. Marcus Fletcher can also corroborate his whereabouts.” 

“And where is this Dr. Fletcher?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“He’s probably a couple rooms away actually.” Harry didn’t like this hunt that was going on. He didn’t trust it one bit. 

“We found semen at the first murder scene, and he won’t tell us where he got those scratches!” Dolph said harshly. 

It took him a moment to realize they were talking about the second murder scene. “That doesn’t constitute rape, and I know for a sad fact that some can enjoy things like that without true sexual contact. I saw the body, there wasn’t enough left of her to know whether he touched her like that or not.” 

Zerbrowski sighed. “No. Scattered over the scene.” 

“So why did Dolph say rape?” 

“There was a little more of the second female vic,” said Zerbrowski. 

“Second attack? What second attack?” 

“You didn’t need to know,” Dolph hissed. “You were right, I called you in on the first one, but I didn’t make that same mistake twice.” Harry rolled his eyes, not bothering to glare or get angry. He was done with Dolph, seriously. 

“I told them I don’t kiss and tell,” said Jason with a grin. 

Harry just looked at him. “You always kiss and tell, Jason. It’s okay. You can tell them.” 

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to. I can be a bad boy, but not that bad, Harry.” 

“He’s cut up, Potter, and we got the polaroids to prove it,” said Dolph. 

“I did it,” said Harry without blinking. Dolph gave a sound that was more of a snort than a laugh. No words were needed to say that he didn’t believe Harry. “Do you want my nail samples? I guarantee you swab his wounds that you’ll find  _ my _ DNA.” 

Zerbrowski nodded. “Yes, I remember you taking a swipe at him on the way back when you had an episode, but…” 

“Episode?” Dolph cut in. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Something was messing with me, but that has nothing to do with this unless you want to blame the one in France causing issue.” He looked very confused. “Those marks were left by me, the morning you called me, I was on top of him.” 

Jason was looking like he was trying not to laugh. “Yeah, you know I still have those marks, Harry?” He raised his shirt up proudly to show the raking marks. “They haven’t gone away yet! I’m impressed.” 

“Why haven’t they gone away?” Harry asked leaning forward to see his own work still lightly embedded, there were even bites. 

“No idea. It’s not like your nails and teeth are made of silver. I mean, when Jean-Claude bites me it never lasts. Goes away in about an hour or two.” 

“I’d never use silver, this is platinum.” He said holding up his Deathly Hallows chain. 

“Might have been the magical induced state or something?” 

“Good enough for me.” 

Zerbrowski cocked his head back and chuckled. “Looks like you had fun.” 

“A lot of it,” said Jason grinning shamelessly. 

Dolph was suddenly on the move. “I don’t buy this, Harry. I am aware of what you’re involved with. Are you saying you fucked him too?” 

“Yep.” 

He leaned across the table at Harry, and Jason began to ease his chair back, as if he didn’t want to be in the middle. “You’re lying. A shape-shifter heals anything but silver and wounds from another monster, real quick. You taught me that, Harry. He should be healed by now, if you really were the one who hurt him.” 

“Magic,” said Harry. “Sometimes, sex can give off a lot of magic when the person is a real wizard or witch.” 

“Probably why it was so good,” said Jason. 

“Why don’t you have scratches?” 

Harry then raised up his jumper sleeve. “Why isn’t my arm as burnt as your hands or bruised? I’m a wizard. I can get rid of damage very easily, and whenever or whatever happened to this second victim was not Jason. He was with me. He was with Dr. Marcus, Micah Callahan, Agent Bradley Bradford of the FBI, and Ted Forrester and before that your own Sergeant was with him as we went to eat at a diner.”

“Still about three hours in between unaccounted for, Harry,” said Zerbrowski. “What were you doing?” 

“Jason was resting, and I was in my room with Jean-Claude, and then I went to help Teddy with his homework.” Dolph reared back as though he’d been slapped, and Zerbrowski arched a brow. “Jason, doesn’t go anywhere without me or Jean-Claude most of the time.” 

“I’m a snack,” said Jason grinning. “For either one, but lately it’s been Harry.” 

Harry gave him a look. “Just say sex.” 

“Sex, snack. It’s all tasty.” 

“Do you want times?” 

“It would be helpful,” said Zerbrowski sighing. “I already counted for when I was with you guys.” 

Harry had to think about this. “Okay. Let’s see. I was at the Circus the morning you called me…” 

“Who were you with?” Dolph asked through his teeth. 

“Hm, Jean-Claude, Ted Forrester, and Micah Callahan.” Jason was looking real amused by now. Zerbrowski managed to keep neutral, though Harry saw his sparking eyes. Dolph was aghast at the idea of it. “But, they all had to leave. Ted wanted Jean-Claude back at my house before dawn. A few visitors in town made being there uncomfortable. But moving me when I was so tired was out of the question, he plonked Jason into the room. Told him he was mine for the day. I woke up, we had sex. I called you guys, and then I went for a shower. I got out, and started feeling horrible. As if everything was draining out of me. I was getting cold and sick. It started slowly at first, but ramped up as the day lingered.” He looked at Zerbrowski when he said that. “Jason never left my side. I was taken to Dr. Marcus Fletcher who had me in a bath for twenty-four hours to get my temperature up as it had tanked. I woke in and out of consciousness, Jason was always there. He never left. I don’t think he even slept.” 

“Nope. I wasn’t leaving you,” said Jason. “Dr. Fletcher can confirm, so can most of our family.” 

“Come to find out a nasty beastie from France was sucking away my energy. Zerbrowski, you saw that in the car.” 

Zerbrowski nodded. “Yeah, I did. It tried to get into his mind. I can confirm the scratches on his biceps and his neck. I was there, Jason had to hold Harry down.” 

“I told him not to let me go under any circumstances.” 

“Why not?” 

“I could have hurt him.” 

“Hurt him?” 

“Drained him. Fucked him until he was dry.” 

Jason whistled. “Not a bad way to go really.” 

“I caught a supernatural bug,” said Harry waspishly. “And the idiot attacking me was trying to use it against me. It’s the kind of bug that can make you aggressive. Make you want something.” It was as close to the truth as he dared with Dolph. 

Harry did not care that the entire thing was being recorded nor did he care who knew about his men or not. He was claimed by all of them at some point. 

Dolph stayed standing near the table, looming over all of them. Zerbrowski asked small questions to nail the times as clearly as possible. 

Harry resisted sighing. Being a werewolf did not protect them from the human laws. Most of the time it hurt them. A shape-shifter accused of murdering a human got a speedy trial and an execution. If a shape-shifter was declared rogue, one that was actively hunting humans, and the police couldn’t capture it, then you had to get a court order of execution, just like for a vampire. It worked almost the same way. But, Harry and Edward learned that not everything needed orders. Especially under the radar, and he would not let Dolph drag Jason down whatever hole he wanted to. 

“Just what the fuck have you been doing in your life, Potter?” Dolph growled once Zerbrowski was done. 

“Whatever I want to do, Dolph,” said Harry sharply. “It is my own. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” 

“Do you have no shame?” 

“No.” 

“What would your parents say if they were alive?” 

“Mum would like them.” If she liked Snape, she’d have given anyone a chance. He was sure. “As for my dad? Not a clue, not that I need their validation in my life. I don’t really need anyone’s when it comes down to it.” He chose his men. He chose to have them in his life. He chose to have them become everything. 

Dolph was just staring at him. His mouth would open and then snap back close as if he couldn’t find the right words. 

“-And if you had waited five minutes without jumping the bloody gun you would have had the name of your culprit.” Zerbrowski snapped his head up at this. 

“Do you even care what the hell you just said? You said you’ve been fucking every goddamn monster in the city!” It seemed in the end Dolph didn’t give a damn about the murder. He was so full of rage, he hadn’t heard Harry at all. 

“Not all of them,” said Harry. “My men wouldn’t appreciate that without their permission.” Zerbrowski cringed as Dolph’s face got even redder. “Jason was on the permission list.” 

“You’re either one of us, or you’re one of them, Harry Potter!” 

“One of what?” Harry asked delicately. Harry wanted to hear it out loud. 

“Monster,” he said, and it was almost a whisper. 

“Are you calling me a monster?” Harry asked low and carefully. 

“I’m saying you’re going to have to choose whether you’re one of them or one of us!” He pointed to Jason when he said them.

“You join Humans Against Vampires or some other right wing group?” 

“No, but I’m beginning to agree with them.” 

“The only good vampire is a dead one, is that it?” Harry pushed. 

“They are dead, Potter!” He seemed to want to get closer, but the table between them blocked him. “They are fucking corpses that don’t have enough sense to stay in their godforsaken graves.” 

“Wrong,” said Harry coldly. “They are living beings with rights and protection under the law.” 

“The law was wrong on this one!” 

Harry wanted to smile, the recording was still going, but that smile dropped off when Dolph got down low, hands flat to the table and pushed his face into Jason’s. Jason moved back as far as he could in the chair. 

Harry’s eyes narrowed cautiously. His magic and own beast began to prickle. Jason tilted his head toward Harry when he felt the rise. 

“It looks so human, but it’s not,” Dolph sneered. “Did you really let these people touch you?” Zerbrowski was moving around Dolph, trying to get to Jason, to get between them. 

“Hell yes, I did,” said Harry, drawing the attention back to him. “I let him fuck me until he was howling. Just like all my other men.” 

“And that bite on your neck?” Dolph hissed. “Was that the bloodsucker you’re fucking?” 

“Uh, which one?” Harry asked. “Earlier it was Jean-Claude, the second was entirely human. Dr. Marcus Fletcher. I can heal them, but why would I do that? It’s not an injury or anything.” 

He staggered almost as if he’d taken a blow. He leaned heavily on the table, and for just a second, Harry thought he’d fall into Jason’s lap. But he recovered himself with a visible effort. Zerbrowski touched the big man’s arm. “Easy there, Lieutenant.” 

Dolph let Zerbrowski sit him down. He made no reaction when the sergeant eased Jason out of the chair, and shockingly placed him beside Harry. As if he knew that Harry would protect him. 

“I’m very equal opportunity.” Harry so wanted to make mentions of his son and the vampire lover, but Harry wasn’t about to bother. He also wouldn’t be one of those people that would blab someone’s secrets for the hell of it. “And now, I think you’re done. You are so done with Jason. He is innocent, and I’m taking him out of here.” Harry reached up, and gripped Jason’s hand. 

“NO!” Dolph roared and suddenly got to his feet. “He’s going nowhere!” 

“He had nothing to do with this.” 

Dolph wiped at his face angrily. “He stays!” 

“Not unless you give me a reason. He couldn’t have done the first murder because he was with me. He couldn’t have done the second murder because he was with me. He couldn’t have done any other murders because Jason Shuyler was with me. You’re looking for a serial killer.” 

He shook his head stubbornly. “We can keep him seventy-two hours.” 

“You can’t do that.” 

“Like hell I can’t!” 

“It’s the full moon in a few days. He can’t be here.” 

“We’ll put him in a secured facility.” 

“Hell no you won’t.” Harry snarled. Secured facilities were run by the government. They were places where new lycanthropes could go and be sure of not accidentally hurting anyone. The idea was you’d stay until you got control of your best. But they never really let you go. It would take years to make them unconstitutional. “Jason has been a werewolf for years. He has perfect control over his beast.” 

“He belongs in one.” 

“He doesn’t belong in a lockup, and you know it, Dolph!” Harry growled. He was on the verge of ending Dolph’s career.  _ Just say the right thing you bastard _ , and he would see that Dolph never got out of this with a pension or good retirement. 

“He belongs in one!” Dolph growled for the second time, and the hatred had chased back the pain on his face. 

“He doesn’t belong in a lockup, and you know it!” 

Dolph just glared at Harry. “He’s dangerous.” 

“Why?” 

“He’s a werewolf, Harry!” 

“So, he needs to be locked up because he’s a werewolf?” 

“Yes!” 

Zerbrowski had the most ill expression on his face. 

“Locked up just because he’s a werewolf.” 

“Yeah,” he said, and he said it on tape. Something he couldn’t take back. “All freaks should be locked up!” he snarled, and whatever empathy Harry had for Dolph that was left, snapped in half. Zerbrowski saw when it did too because his shoulders sagged. 

“That isn’t going to happen,” said a voice at the door, and Harry smirked when he saw Agent Bradley Bradford standing there with a stony expression on his face. “Harry, get Jason out of here. He is done. He’s innocent, and considering  _ two _ Federal Marshalls and an FBI Agent can corroborate the timings, I’m pretty confident that he can leave here.” Not to mention, he already knew. 

“No it damn well isn’t,” said Harry curling his arm around Jason. 

“Your lovers are waiting for you,” said Agent Bradford. “I’ll keep you updated about everything.” 

“Thank you, Agent.” 

He guided Jason out of the room, and then Agent Bradford asked Zerbrowski to leave, and once he did, he slammed the door shut a bit harder than it should have. 

Zerbrowski was quiet. Several people were hanging out in the hall, having heard the commotion. Impressive. “He’s finished isn’t he?” 

“I don’t know, he made his bed, Zerbrowski.” 

“I know…” 

“I won’t fight for him anymore,” said Harry. “You don’t do that to people. No matter what they are.” 

Jason curled into Harry as he walked out of the hall and toward the men leaning against the wall in a row. All three of them straightened, Micah was the first to them. Harry hugged him around the neck and kissed his ear. Harry’s leopardess, for the first time, padded out first to greet her counterpart. She usually waited for Micah’s to come to her.

“You okay?” 

“More than okay. Let’s get the hell out of here.” 

Harry didn’t care in that moment who was watching or who heard what he’d said on that tape. Harry was proud of his men, and proud of his friend Jason. He never let go of Jason even when Marcus and Edward both kissed him, and right in public. Edward wasn’t usually the type to get a stir started, but he seemed like he wanted to make a point. Marcus took Jason, and stroked his face with both hands, and stared into his eyes. 

“You did great, Jason.” 

“Thank you,”  _ Ulfric _ , Jason didn’t have to say out loud as his eyes sparkled.

Harry belonged to them. All of them. Shifter, human, and vampire.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Harry turned in the bed as he was kicked lightly from someone making their way off. With a grumble he pressed into Edward’s side. He could feel Edward’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him closer. Teddy was pressed to his back, curled under Micah’s arm that slung over Teddy and Harry to rest on Edward. Marcus was laying behind Micah, last Harry checked. Maybe that’s who got off the bed?

“Hello?” Harry registered a sleepy voice saying. “Um… yah… phone.” 

There was a light thump before a groggy voice spoke next. “I’m not on call...Hello? Oh…” 

Harry grumbled a bit as he was jostled from Edward shifting. “What? ... Speak to Micah.”

“Who’s calling?” Harry finally asked as the phone passed over his body a second time.

“Micah here… Ah Zeze”

“Micah, give me the phone.” Harry finally woke up enough to pay attention.

“Zeze?” Teddy giggled as Micah passed him the phone with an indulgent smile. “Hi Zeze!”

“Hahaha, hello Teddy. I didn’t expect to be passed around to so many just to speak with Harry. Is he not there?” By now the phone was close enough for Harry to hear Zebrowski on the other end.

“I hate you all.” He grumbled, turning over to look at Teddy.

“No stealing the phone from Teddy.” Edward kissed his tattoo on the back of his neck. 

“Parrain is here. We were all sleeping when you called.”

“Yah, sorry about that. Who’s all there?”

“Uncle Marcus, Papa, Dad, Parrain, Uncle Stephen, and Uncle Gregory. Uncle Stephen answered the phone first.”

“Oh, that’s quite a few to have in one bed.”

“I’m small! And Parrain has a big bed so that everyone can fit on it when they have sex. It’s big enough that when they are rough it doesn’t move the far end.”

“Teddy!” 

“Is that another thing I’m not supposed to say?” Teddy asked with a grin at Harry. “But Zeze knows Papa, Dad, Père, and Uncle Marcus have sex with you.” 

“Phone please Teddy.” Harry begged as Micah stifled snickers into Marcus’s shoulder. “Edward, do something about your eight year old son!”

“Hey buddy, why don’t you go crawl in with Peter hmm?” Edward suggested knowing something case related probably came up. 

“Ok!” Teddy finally handed Harry the phone, kissed his cheek, and crawled over three bodies to get out of the bed. Harry waited until he heard the door close before bringing the phone to his ear. 

“What is it Zebrowski?” 

“Harry. Harry. Harry. You can’t drop all of that on me and expect us to go straight to business. So orgy size bed huh?”

“Don’t make me curse you.”

“So is Stephen a new lover?”

“No. Why are you calling me at…” Harry cast his time spell showing how early it was, “7 in the morning?”

“Should have sent Teddy to watch TV instead.” Micah commented lightly. 

“Really, Harry, you can’t hand me that sort of ammunition and expect me not to use it. So big enough that it doesn’t rock when you’re rough…”

“Tell me why you called or I’m hanging up, Zeze. We didn’t get to bed until a few hours ago.”

“Fine, another time. We’ve got another crime scene and need you here.”

“I’m not going anywhere near Dolph.” Harry stated, closing his eyes expecting to go back to sleep soon. He wasn’t going to voluntarily be in the same space as Dolph any more. Not after the discrimination earlier.

“He’s not here.”

“What?” Harry’s eyes popped open wide.

“I’m leading this scene and am calling you in. Dolph isn’t on the case anymore; in fact, he’s been forced to take a leave of absence. We’ve another crushed rape victim.” 

_Did Bradford not tell them or was he waiting on something?_ Harry wondered. 

Edward was already moving out of the bed so that Harry could get himself out. Harry was now only trapped beneath part of Micah and Gregory across his legs. Stephen had been draped over Marcus. Harry was going to guess that Edward had during the night handed the phone to someone since he was always on the end. 

“Okay, where are you?” It was in Chesterfield again. “He’s staying in a pretty small geographic area.” 

“Yep,” said Zerbrowski, and Harry heard the exhaustion in his voice. 

“Give me directions.” Harry scrounged around for some paper and pen. He quickly scribbled them down. “I’ll be there soon.” 

“Harry, don’t bring anyone with you this time. The top brass are getting downright nervous, and they’re starting to bring in all known shape-shifters for questioning.” 

“That’s ridiculous, no one from St. Louis is responsible, I told you that.” 

“I believe you, Harry. But I’m not top brass.” Harry wanted to tell him that if Dolph hadn’t been so out of control they might have been able to head it off, and why was Bradford holding back Van Anders? “People are fucking terrified. There’s a rush bill in the state senate right now to declare varmint laws legal again in Missouri.” 

Dammit. Harry would be stopping that bill at all costs. “It’ll never get into law.” 

“Probably not right now, but Harry, we get a few more women torn up like this, and I don’t know.” 

“It won’t happen either way. I can assure you of that.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“The economy won’t be able to handle it. 85% of Riverfront will close as well as 10-20% of all businesses outside of the Riverfront within the month of this bill passing. That much downturn will see more businesses close from lack of supply chain, support, and staff.” 

“How do you figure?” 

“All supernatural, vampires and weres, will leave the state, and take all of their economic power with them. If there is one thing I’ve learned about being in America is that money talks, and corporate greed is just as nasty as murder scenes.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” Not to mention the tourism that St. Louis had made their money from. As well as some of his own businesses would close up shop because he wouldn’t have it. Even the Black rejects could boast a good amount of business sense. “There’s something else.” 

“You sound like you’re about to give me really bad news again, Zeze.” 

“I just don’t want to have to fight with you and Dolph and the top brass all at the same time.” 

“I’m not fighting with anyone, Zeze. Dolph made his bed, and he can sleep in it. So just tell me.” 

“There was a message at the first rape scene.” 

“I didn’t see a message.” 

“It was by the back door. Dolph never gave you a chance to see it. I didn’t know about it until later.” 

“What was the message?” 

“First message read, ‘we nailed this one too.’ You were very spot on, and it seemed when I told him this, he got suspicious.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Suspicious of me doing my job? How quaint.” 

“You mentioned that they all may be connected, Dolph didn’t think you could leap to that so fast.” 

“What, because he didn’t?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“I don’t exactly have to explain myself. I know what I know, and I trust my gut. That’s all there is to it. I know an execution and an assassination when I see it.” 

“I didn’t say I agree with Dolph. Just telling you what happened, and there was a second message at the one you weren’t called in on. It said ‘Nailed another one.’”

It was definitely Van Anders. But, why was Bradford holding out? What was he waiting on? “I see. I’ll be there as soon as I’m dressed.” 

“Good. Hurry,” he said, and then hung up. 

Harry sighed, and told Edward what he might or might not have heard. “Why is Bradford holding out?” 

“Feds will hold out on a lot of things for many different reasons. It’s bigger than we think. This serial killer is a small part of a very big picture,” Edward said, lounging on the bed as Micah scooted closer to snuggle with him. 

“You mean because of the Black Orders that Harlan mentioned?” 

Edward nodded. “Yes. I can guarantee that someone high on the food chain did not want them making a splash in St. Louis. Espionage is about undercover and going unnoticed.” 

“And they’re splashed across all media outlets.” 

“Yes. I’ll get with Bradford to see what he has to say. It’s gotten so out of control that whoever is on the other end is going to be desperate to stop it.” 

“Ngh, everyone vacating,” Micah sulked. 

Edward tugged Gregory into his old position. “Cuddle Alpha. Need to keep him happy.” 

“Yes sir.”

“Good enough.” 

“Bradford might be waiting on the order of execution before spilling to the locals,” said Harry as they both grabbed clothes from the closet. “If it’s espionage anyone could be a spy.” 

“Now you’re thinking, Little Raven,” Edward smirked. 

“Always have to think two steps ahead when you’re around,” Harry kissed him on the chin. “I’ll hold out on telling Zerbrowski what we know until I have word.” 

“Good.” 

Harry expected the scene to be bad, and so he dressed for the occasion. He chose knee high black leather boots that had to be slipped on rather than buckled or zipped, topped with a pair of black riding pants that formed to his body like a second layer in case of any stains, and finished with a long sleeve dark red turtleneck. Harry attached his belt, noting two guns had been strapped to it. No surprise with spies out and about.

He was pretty certain that the ardeur wouldn’t be flaring up. He’d fed it last night before they all fell asleep. Stephen and Gregory had crawled in sometime afterwards. Harry had been surprised that Edward would allow it. Marcus had Stephen and Gregory had curled around Micah and Harry. As if Harry needed covers with such human bodies over him. Marcus and Micah would be dealing with Stephen and Gregory’s father. 

It was not every day that Harry left the house on his own. Edward didn’t like that idea, but now here he stood taking in the scene with critical eyes. No longer did he feel as though he were about to pass out or fall over. A familiar hamburger smell permeated the air as he walked the scene of the crime. Zerbrowski had given him plastic booties to put over his boots, and handed him a box of gloves. He had warned that it was messy. 

The room was so red that it was almost blinding. It was as if someone had painted all the walls, but it wasn’t just red or crimson. It was scarlet, ruby, brick red where it had begun to dry. A color so dark it was almost black, but it sparked red like a gem. A piece of meat had been hung on the wall with blood. 

The floor was worse if one could believe that. It was tile and so it didn’t absorb, that was the point in bathrooms after all to prevent rot from seeping into the grounds. The blood was deep enough that it formed pools between grout lines. The floor space was small, and so that meant a small river of blood. 

It was strange, the master bedroom was beyond the bath and it was sparkling clean. It had been completely untouched. 

There was a small lip of marble that held the shallow lake of blood inside the final room. A tiny ledge of stone to keep the rest of the rooms clean. 

There was a three-person, deep shower in the far corner. The glass doors were splattered with blood, and it had dried to a nice candy red shell. The shower stall wasn’t covered as completely as the other walls. Harry’s shower could hold at least four and his bathtub had been upgraded to accommodate more than four. Yeah, everything in his house had gotten bigger with the expansion of those in his life. 

“Is your bathtub this big?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Bigger,” said Harry, and for the first time since he arrived, Zerbrowski managed a smile. “Shower is too, just so you know.” 

“God, I can imagine what you do in those showers.” 

“Lots of fun to be had,” said Harry. 

The tub itself was full of pale blood. Blood the color of dark red roses left too long in the sun, faded to a shade of pink that never looked quite pink, but always as if it had meant to be a darker color. Harry was going to guess skin or something might be in there to change the pigment. Harry used the farthest door frame to get to the double vanity and sink area. But there was so much blood it was hard to pull back the layer to see anything more than a massacre. 

“You’re the only one I know who can look at this kind of stuff and not flinch,” said Zerbrowski. 

“Oh, I’m flinching,” said Harry folding his arms across his chest. Zerbrowski had told him to take off the coat he’d been wearing. One of the officers was happy to hold onto it to keep it protected. It meant he didn’t have to enter the room. It was the long floor length one that Micah and Marcus had used their fur on and Jean-Claude had gotten custom made. “Just flinching on the inside.” 

He smirked. “So, is that the most you’ve ever had in your bed? We’ve got a pool going. Merlioni saw you last night at the station with your lovers. He thinks there’s been more.” 

Harry considered seriously for a moment, if only to give Zerbrowski a break. “Well, let’s see… this time it was Marcus, Micah, Ted, Gregory, Stephen, and Teddy. Jean-Claude was in bed, but he moved to the basement before daylight hours. One time I had Rafael, Stephen, Gregory, Seth, Nathaniel, Zane, and of course Teddy. There might have been another one or two at some point if you include Micah and stuff.” 

“Jesus!” Zerbrowski squawked. “Looks like Merlioni won. I said that your bed has to have a limit.” 

“I’m a wizard, why does it need a limit?” Harry asked, getting the man laughing. 

“Oh that’s too rich! And your bathtub?” 

“All of them?” 

Zerbrowski chuckled throatily. “How big is your bathroom?” 

“Big enough. My bathroom is nowhere near the size of Jean-Claude’s bathroom. Nor as beautiful. He has a porcelain swan that shoots out water like a fountain.” 

“Geez, you live the high life dontcha?” 

Harry could only smile, and it dimmed as he took another look around the room. “How many this time?” 

“Why?” 

“Too much blood. There are only two full walls in that room, both of them are so thick with blood and heavier bits that it’s like two kills at least. One at the one wall, one at the other.” 

“What about the tub?” 

“The water’s pale. I’ve never seen anyone bled out in a bathtub, so I don’t know if the water would be this pale or if it would be darker. But my gut tells me that no one was bled out in the tub. It may have started there, but most of the blood is on the floor and walls.” 

“You sure about that?” 

“Nope. I’ve never seen anyone bleed out in a tub before, but I’m also wondering why the tub is so full, almost to the brim. You can’t fill most tubs that full, they’ve got that little hole that stops it from overflowing. This one is so full that you couldn’t even step into it without sloshing water all over the floor.” He was watching Harry’s face closely, and then his gaze slid away to look into the room beyond, then to the clean section of floor they were standing on. 

“I’m right that at least two people were killed, aren’t I?” 

“Maybe.” 

Harry sighed as the frustration grew. “Look, I’ve worked with Dolph for years, and I liked him. I respected his work methods, but damn it Zerbrowski. You don’t have to play it as close to the chest as he does. I’ve always hated playing twenty questions. Let’s try something new and different. I ask questions, you answer them.” 

“Perhaps.” 

“At least two people were killed, slaughtered against the walls.” Harry turned back and looked at everything. “Are there bits of bodies in the tub?” 

“Dolph would make you go fish.” 

Harry glared. “Maybe. Probably. But you’re not Dolph, and I’m not in the mood for that.” 

“We left the bits in there special for you, Harry. No joke.” he held up his hands. “You’re our monster expert, and if this isn’t a monster, I don’t know what is.” 

“It is a monster, Zeze. But is it a human monster? Or something else?” Harry sighed and glared at the tub. “You really want me to go fish?” 

“Yup. The quicker you do this, the quicker we can get out of here.” 

“I fucking hate to love you sometimes,” Harry grumbled. 

“Well that’s a first. Most have just flat out said they hated me.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t hate you. I’m annoyed, but I don’t hate you, Zeze.'' He was tempted to just use his magic, but knew that right now he had to do everything the Muggle way. No magic involved what with Dolph always being so suspicious. It’s the only reason he didn’t ask for long gloves. “You know I”m going to track blood all over the place right?” 

He fished beneath the sink and retrieved a bag. “Put the booties in here before you step out of the room.” 

Harry sighed. His boots would never recover. “Glad I wore knee high boots,” he said, shaking his head. 

Blood coated around the plastic bootie the moment he stepped into the mess. It was so close to overflowing over top, and even with the bootie and thick leather he could feel the blood had cooled. 

He eased forward and silently cast a traction spell so that he didn’t slip and fall. Harry grabbed hold of the edge of the tub. He lowered himself slowly to look into the water. 

It was like tomato soup with milk rather than water or vegetable broth. The water seemed to swirl, heavier than it was. “You sure you don’t have any rookies to do this?” He really didn’t want to go in there. 

“How do you think we got the first piece out?” he asked. 

“That would explain the uniform that was throwing his guts up in the bushes.” 

“It’s his first week on the job.” 

“Yikes.” Poor guy. 

“When you’re finished looking, the techies are going to pump the water out and filter it for evidence. But you get to see it first. Tell me this wasn’t a lycanthrope kill, Harry. Tell me, and I’ll tell the media. It’ll quiet down the witch hunt.” 

“I know it’s a shapeshifter,” said Harry solemnly. “But you share the same species as Dahmer, Zerbrowski. Not your fault for that.” 

Zerbrowski snorted. “Yeah, well, a lot of people can forget about men like Dahmer and Bundy with the latest and most sensationalized. Do you think it’s the same one or two?” 

“Probably one because traditionally two separate killers means more than slaughter than one.” 

“You still think more like a cop than a monster expert, Harry.” 

“They’re both the same, Zeze. Just different skin.” 

Harry took in a breath, and slipped his hand into the cold water, and through his gloves he could feel how slick it was. Harry reached down, the line of cold bloody water creeped up his skin, and with his hand halfway in, he hit something solid. 

Meat and bone, flesh. Harry got it in a grip, and he raised it free of the water. It was what was left of someone’s arm. The bone showed pinkish white as the water streamed away with it. The end that had attached to the shoulder was crushed. Man-made tools could do this, but Harry was certain that this was their shifter. 

Harry set it aside and went back to where he found it. His hand sunk a bit further this time, and pulled out another meatless bone. Harry was prepared to tell him about Van Anders, screw Bradford and following his example. They needed to get ahead of this, and Harry had to put a stop to all shifters being targeted. 

Harry turned away from the tub as he let the bone sink back where it belonged. He carefully stripped off his gloves and the booties before tossing them into a sack. He stepped out of that horrible room and kept walking until he hit the bedroom. 

Zerbrowski followed him out, and it was Merlioni who said. “He did it, didn’t he?” 

“Yep.” 

Merlioni made a sort of crowing sound. “I knew it! I won again!” 

Harry looked at him and then at Zerbrowski. “You made a bet whether I would go fish or not?” 

Zerbrowski didn’t even look embarrassed when he said that. “We’ve had to do a lot of betting today.” 

“You bloody wankers!” 

Everyone laughed at him, and Harry sighed. “It’s a shape-shifter, and I’ll bet your money that it’s the same one. The first vic was done in her bed, was the second?” He nodded. “This was in the bath, and there’s at least two bodies cut up in the bathtub.” 

“Why two?” 

“Because the pile is too damn high to be only one woman’s body, especially since he ate parts of it.” 

“You say he like you know.” 

“It’s male. It’s rare for this to happen from a woman, but it’s not likely.” Although, Raina would probably be capable of something like this. _Good thing she’s dead_ , Harry thought with disgust. Harry was also aware of the nature in wolves to eat what they killed, but this was slaughter. Pure and simple. 

“We actually got a witness that the woman who owns the house and another girlfriend were seen entering the residence at about two o’ clock in the morning.” Zerbrowski had his eyes closed as if he were quoting. “They appeared drunk, and there was a man with them.” 

“You have a witness?” 

“If the man who brought them home is the shapeshifter, and not part of what is in the bathtub, yeah.” 

Harry sighed. “He could be, but I doubt it. Why isn’t the overflow valve working?” 

“Our rookie says a piece of body has been stuffed in the valve.” 

“I see.” 

“I lost on that one,” said Merlioni with a huff. “I thought it would finally get you, kiddo.” 

“Lost on what?” Harry looked confused. Exactly how many betting pools were in play about him right now? And is there a way for him to get some of the money as the subject? He could use it as Teddy’s pocket allowance.

“Most of us bet you’d be sick.” 

“Who bet I wouldn’t be?” 

“Me?” Zerbrowski smirked. 

“What did you win?” Harry asked. 

“Dinner for two at Tony’s.” 

“Nice,” said Harry in approval. “Even at my worst I don’t get sick, Merlioni.” 

“Yeah, I’m beginning to see that, kiddo!” 

Before Harry could dismiss himself, he heard a voice behind him. “Haven’t seen anything this bad since New Mexico.” 

Harry turned surprised as he was to find Edward and Agent Bradford standing there in the doorway. Zerbrowski frowned at their appearance. “Agent Bradford right?” 

“Yes, and this is Ted Forrester, Federal Marshall. I believe you need the rest of the pieces to a very lengthy puzzle.” 

Bradford held open a manilla folder and turning it over to show a freeze frame photograph. “A store across the street from the club where the two women went to last night. The store got robbed last year, and put in a very nice surveillance system.” 

“How did you know about this?” 

“Roy Van Anders is your shapeshifter serial killer,” said Bradford. “And yesterday night you brought in a man named Leopold Heinrick.” 

“What does this man have to do with anything?” asked Zerbrowski, getting a good look at the picture. “What is going on?” 

“Leopold Heinrick is a spy for hire,” said Bradford. “He is here in town to make a certain observation. He was not in town for anything more, but one of his own went rogue causing an international media circus. Van Anders is a rogue shapeshifter serial killer. He has been in multiple places at the same time a half a dozen women had gone missing. His MO is as much sexual as it is sadistic.” 

“You don’t say, and what’s this spy doing in St. Louis?” asked Merlioni. “How is he connected to Anders?” Harry inwardly cringed. He didn’t want anyone to know that they were here for him. He looked at Edward who was watching the scene carefully. No surprise, everyone seemed to forget about him. He was good at that. 

“What matters is wherever Roy Van Anders goes, bits of bodies show up, and a lot of blood. Almost all women.” In other words, they wanted Heinrick and in return they would get Roy Van Anders. 

“O’Brien is on that case, she’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Zerbrowski growled. “But if it gets me my killer, and I can stop seeing this? Let’s do it. I don’t care why or the reason for them being here.” His face had gone stony, but Harry saw his eyes flickering from Bradford to Edward to Harry. Yeah, Zerbrowski was making his leaps and landing right on point. No other reason for one of Harry’s lovers to be here, Fed or not. 

O’Brien was as annoying as he figured she would be. She wanted the credit, and was denying that there was even so much as a link between them. She wanted her name on it, and had tried to force Harry out of the investigation on the grounds that he was a victim. But Bradley stepped in and overrode her, and Zerbrowski had shoved photographs in her face causing her to blanche. She’d never seen anything like it. 

Edward agreed to wait outside as Harry and Zerbrowski took over the interrogation. Heinrick was sitting behind the small table, slumped back in the chair. His carefully cut blond hair was still neat, but he’d laid his glasses on the table, and his face looked younger without them. His file said he was closer to forty than thirty, but like Harry, he seemed to hold his age well. He had an innocent face, and Harry knew that was a lie. 

He looked up at both of them when they entered, and something flickered through his pale eyes. It was either interest, curiosity, or worry. The look was gone before Harry could decipher it. He was on camera and so he was being watched in the other room by Bradley, O’Brien, and Edward. 

He was now focusing on the files in Harry’s hand. It was a large stack, which might have been a small exaggeration. But it looked good.

Everyone’s file was so full of blacked-out spaces that it was almost illegible. The fact that no one would give the John Doe a name, but they would acknowledge that he was once a member of the armed forces was disturbing. Just what the bloody hell did these people want with him? 

Zerbrowski tried light small talk, which didn’t work. He didn’t want coffee. He didn’t want anything to drink. He looked bland and blank except for some exhaustion crinkling along the edge. “You are both playing games. I am tired of games.” 

“I’m not playing games. How about I spell it out for you,” said Harry and he began to open the folders. He paled when Harry laid photos out in a line of bright red death, and watched as all the color drained away from Heinrick’s skin. He looked almost gray by the time he sat the last down. “I only want to stop this from happening, Heinrick. No more games like you said. Those women died last night. We think there were two victims, but truthfully we haven’t finished putting together the pieces, so we’re not a hundred percent certain. It could be more, or it could be just one woman, but that’s an awful lot of blood for only one woman, don’t you think?” 

He laid the baggie of polaroids carefully on the table, so that they didn’t touch any of the other photographs. He stared at all of them. His face had gone death white, his eyes huge. “What do you wish to know? He promised he would not do it here. He swore that he could control himself.” 

“Who?” Harry wanted it on camera. It was the only way to get the warrant. 

“Van Anders,” he whispered the name. “The other detective said you knew it was Van Anders.” 

“Without eye witnesses it’s hard to be certain.” 

“You think it could be someone else?” A spark of hope in his eyes. Harry had a feeling that whoever it was that he answered to was not a happy camper. He was more scared of that than the photographs. Someone was supposed to keep a leash on Anders, and it backfired. It backfired so heavily that all of them were sent reeling. But Harry shook his head and laid out the picture that Bradley had found with the two women from last night’s slaughter. And the next time he spoke, his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Then it is him.” He laid his forehead on the table. “I told them that he was crazy. I told them not to include him.” 

“Told who?” 

He sat up a little straighter. “I agreed to come here against my better judgment. I knew the team was assembled too quickly. When you rush such a task, it ends badly.” 

“What task?” 

“To recruit you for a mission.” 

Dammit. Now Zerbrowski was staring at Harry. “What mission?” 

He shook his head. “It wouldn’t matter now. The tape we got of you raising a man in a local cemetery went missing. Someone wanted to fool people in a country that their leader was still alive.” 

“What country?” Harry asked carefully. 

He shook his head. “I will not be here long, Mr. Potter-Black. Those that employ me will see to it. They will either work to free me soon, with no charges, or they will have me killed.” 

“You seem calm about that.” 

“I believe I will go free.” 

“But you’re not sure.” 

“Few things in life are certain.” 

“I know one thing that’s pretty certain,” said Harry softly. “Van Anders will kill someone else tonight.” 

His eyes were bleak when he said. “I had worked with him years ago, before I knew what he was. I should not have believed him that he was in control of his rage. I should have known.” 

“So, your government or employers or what have you is just going to leave Anders here to butcher more women?” he asked carefully. 

He looked at Harry, and he couldn’t quite read his expression. “I know where Van Anders is staying. I will give you that address. I know that my employers would wish him dead now. He has become a serious liability.” 

They got the address from him, and Harry didn’t hurry out after it because unlike the films, he knew he wouldn’t be allowed in at the capture. Mobile Reserve, St. Louis’ answer to SWAT, would be the ones running the show. 

Harry opened one last file and showed him the man they’d crucified against the wall. “Why did you need Van Anders to do this? Not his kind of kill.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“We know you and your team did this. We even know why.” 

“You know nothing.” He sounded so very sure of that. 

“You were ordered to kill him because he ran from you. He abandoned the mission, likely realized what Anders was first, and high-tailed it out of there. Most professionals would not appreciate someone of Van Anders style,” he said coolly. Heinrick looked at Harry then, and now he was worried. He was wondering how much he knew. “Whose idea was it to crucify him?” 

“Van Anders.” He looked like he’d swallowed something sour. “It won’t matter, Mr. Potter-Black. I’ll never see trial.” 

“Maybe not, but I always like to know where the blame is going.” 

He nodded, and then said. “Van Anders was so angry when we shot him first. He said what good is a crucifixion if the person isn’t struggling.” He looked at Harry with haunted eyes. “I should have known then what he meant to do.” 

“Whose idea were the runes?” 

He shook his head. “It’s all you’re going to get out of me.”

“I have only one more thing then.” 

“I will not incriminate myself, Mr. Potter-Black.” 

“If you knew what Van Anders was capable of, then, why bring him along? Why make him part of the team at all?” 

“He is a werewolf, as you have learned from what he does to his victims. There were those who believed you were a shapeshifter as well. We wanted someone that could manage you without risk of infection, if you fought us.”

That was telling. “You were planning on kidnapping me?” 

“As a last resort,” he said seriously. 

Harry snorted at this. “I’d like to see how that would turn out.” 

“You employ guards of the monster variety,” said Heinrick in acknowledgment. “Including master vampires centuries old, we’d have all died wouldn’t we?” Harry didn’t say either or, but his eyes were enough. He sighed. “Good thing we have no evidence of your raisings.” 

“Yes, very good thing,” said Harry as he stood, and gathered the files. 

He stepped out into the main area only to find that it was chaos. People yelling and running all over the place. “What the hell is going on?” he asked, walking toward Edward who was observing everything with his arms crossed casually. His blank aloofness would set a lot of people on edge. 

“The Mobile Reserve Squad that went out to pick up Van Anders. He cut them up. At least one dead, maybe more,” said Edward. “Bradford went to make arrangements for Heinrick.” He looked at Harry then. “Looks like we’re going deer hunting again.” 

Harry knew what he meant. He wasn’t going to let Heinrick out of the country. No way. Not after what they’d heard. “Have fun with that. Bring me back something.” And before Edward could respond there was a shout for their names. 

“Harry!” Zerbrowski called. He had run ahead to find out what was going on. “I need you.”

“Can you take it from here, Little Raven?” Edward asked knowing that they would probably move Heinrick when they were all busy. 

“Go and get ready,” Harry kissed him on the chin. 

The Mobile Reserve weren’t easy guys to kill. They were trained to handle terrorists, hostage situations, drugs, gangs, biochemical hazards, and out of control monsters of all varieties. So what went wrong?

Harry had seen enough of Van Anders’ handy work to be prepared for the worst. What he saw in the hallway wasn’t even close to his worst. Compared to the other scenes, it was almost clean. There was a uniformed officer standing next to the window at the end of the hallway. The window was almost completely free of glass, as if something large had been thrown through it. 

A sprinkling of blood on the pale brown carpet in the hallway, and two blood smears on the wall looked almost artificial, and overly dramatic on the off-white walls. That was all. Van Anders hadn’t had time to enjoy himself. One officer was dead, maybe two, but he’d just had time to kill them. He hadn’t had time to cut them up. Harry wondered if that made him angry? Did he feel cheated?

Harry walked the scene carefully and made note of several things. There was a trickle of police in the hallway, but the sound of voices from the open door of the apartment were echoing. Detective Webster and O’Brien had come up to them. They were still in the doorway because there wasn’t space to walk into the room. Every homicide has more cops than needed, but he’d never seen a crowd like this. It was nearly wall-to-wall with people like at a party, except that every face was grim or shocked or angry.

Due to so many people clogging up the hall and the apartment, Zerbrowski had to call Harry’s cell phone. Everybody wanted answers, answers about the monsters, answers that he couldn’t give because he didn’t fucking know. 

“Where are you Zerbrowski?”

“He’s on the far side of the room,” said Detective Webster, overhearing Harry’s question. 

“Can you point him out, Detective?” Harry asked Webster. He hated being short sometimes, even with boots. Everyone needed to stop being such giants. What do they feed their kids in America? 

But, Zerbrowski was already making his way through the throngs of people. He had Mobile Reserve officers in full combat gear all around him. One of them had lost the helmet and his mask leaving his eyes wild looking. 

Zerbrowski saw them. “Officer Elsworthy, this is Harry Potter-Black. Marshall Harry Potter-Black. He’s our preternatural expert.” 

Elsworthy frowned, blinking a little too rapidly. Harry could see the shock forming on Elsworthy’s face. It was as if he wasn’t really seeing Harry. 

“Why isn’t he at the hospital with the others?” Harry asked low enough for only Zerbrowski to catch. 

“He wouldn’t go. Said he wanted to ask RPIT how the hell a werewolf can grow claws when it’s still in human form.” Harry started at this, and drew back to look at Zerbrowski. “I told him it wasn’t possible for a shifter to gain claws while still in human form. Was I wrong?” 

_Shit._ Harry had hoped that would never get out. He nodded slowly. Might as well. “A shifter has to be really powerful to be able to do it. I’ve only known a handful that could do partial change while still human.” 

Zerbrowski lowered his voice even more. “It might have been good to know that before they busted in on Van Anders.” 

“I thought a minimum of one person from each squad went down to Quantico for the big preternatural class and lecture?” 

“They did.” 

Harry gave him a look of disgust. “I don’t go around assuming that I know more about the monsters than the bloody FBI.” 

“Maybe you should. Or be the expert they call in to teach the class next time.”

“And take me away from teaching you? Where’s the fun in that Zeze.” Harry teased. He wouldn’t want to be the one to teach the FBI about shifters, but maybe someone magical should if that bit of knowledge wasn’t known. The way he said it took heat out of Harry’s words. He couldn’t really get angry at Elsworthy standing there blinking like an innocent come to slaughter. 

“Is it hot in here?” Elsworthy asked. 

“Detective Webster, please take Elsworthy out in the hall for a breath of air, would you?” 

Webster did what Harry asked, and Elsworthy went without a single complaint. It was as if he’d used up all his anger before he got there, and now all that was left was shock and horror of it all. 

“What went wrong?” Harry asked. 

“I’ve been yelled at by Elsworthy, but even better, Captain Parker. He’s waiting at the hospital for me to get my ass down there and explain to him how the hell Van Anders was able to do what he did.” 

“What exactly did he do?” 

Zerbrowski dug out his ever present notebook from his jacket pocket. The notebook looked like it had been rolled in the dirt, then stepped on. He ruffled through it until he got to the pages he wanted. “Van Anders cooperated completely when they came in. He seemed surprised and didn’t know why anyone would want to arrest him. He was handcuffed, patted down, and two tactical officers, Bates and Meyer led him out into the hallway, while the rest of the squad reformed and made sure the rest of the apartment was clear. All standard procedure.” 

“When did that change?” 

“Then it gets a little confusing. Meyer never came back on the radio at all. Bates started yelling, officer down, and something about, he’s got claws. Elsworthy and another officer got out the door in time to see Van Anders clear enough that they both swear he had claws but was in full human form.” He looked up at Harry. “Truthfully, I was ready to think Elsworthy and Tucker were seeing things.” 

“No, it’s possible,” he shook his head again, and fought the urge to rub his temples. “The lycanthropes that I’ve seen do this, the claws just whip out. It’s like having five switchblades suddenly appear. There wouldn’t have been anything for the Officer, Bates was it? To see.” 

“Meyer. Bates is still alive.” 

Harry nodded. “Van Anders stabbed Meyer. When the claws shot out of his fingertips, he used them like knives.” 

“Apparently Kevlar doesn’t stop lycanthrope claws.” 

“Kevlar isn’t made to stop stabbing attacks,” said Harry. “The claws acted like blades.” 

“Van Anders used the officer as a shield, held him on his claws like a puppet, this is what Elsworthy finally said.” 

“He should have gone to the hospital with the others,” said Harry folding his arms across his chest. 

“He looked fine when I got here, Harry, honest. I don’t blame them for not forcing him to go. But, we can give him a ride to the hospital when we go.” 

“Why do I think we are going to the hospital for more than just a show of support?” 

“Perceptive as always, Harry. I told Parker that I’d be right along with Marshall Potter-Black once he showed up.” 

“Gah.” 

“He’s asking questions about the shapeshifters that I don’t have the answers to. Maybe Dolph would, but there is no way I want him to be here. We managed to quiet down the worst of what happened in the interrogation with your friend, but if Dolph loses it in a public setting… Bradford also gave us a clear warning.” He looked grim at this. 

“Warning?” 

“Said that if Dolph touched you again, he’d make sure he saw him punished to the highest court of the MACUSA law,” said Zerbrowski grimly. 

“Bradford said that?” Harry was surprised. 

“Yes he did. Another lover?” 

Harry squawked. “No! I don’t have room for anymore. I’m sorry about Dolph.” He hated being singled out like that. “Don’t worry, I’ll go with you to the hospital.” 

“Where’s Ted?” 

“Went to see what he could do for Bradford,” said Harry. And gear up for hunting Heinrick. “I’ll see what I can do about the Captain’s questions.” 

“Ah, but first ya gotta see this.” He was actually smiling. 

“See what?” 

He turned without a word and led the way down the hall towards the empty window. Webster had taken Elsworthy in the opposite direction so that they stood as far from the window as the hallway allowed.

When they were close enough, Harry’s eyes started looking at the bullet holes in the wall near the window at the end of the hallway. There was almost no glass on the carpet because it had all gone outside. Zerbrowski motioned the uniform back. “He threw himself out the window?” 

“Yep.” 

“Not surprising, but how did he not get injured? Even if he was in half wolf-man form, the backlash would see his legs temporarily broken.” 

“He didn’t go down, he went up.” He motioned Harry closer to the window. 

It had a very low sill, almost low enough to step through. It gave a good view without the glass in the metal frame, and nothing but empty air between Harry and the fall. Sounded like fun. 

Harry had no problem leaning around to look at the right side of the window where there were claw marks imbedded in the metal. “He used his claws to climb?” He gasped. He leaned forward, not caring about the icy cold wind on his face or how close he was to falling out. Zerbrowski on the other hand had grabbed his hips to keep him from leaning too much further. Harry couldn’t resist looking down. “Fun drop.” 

“Van Anders did a Spiderman on them. The sniper and observer were set up on the opposite side of the building. There was nothing they could do.” Zerbrowski nodded, and he was still smiling. “Captain Parker was screaming that he didn’t know werewolves could do that either.” 

“He isn’t the only one, but I suppose it’s a good theory. I mean they can grapple. It stabs, so they should be able to dig in. If it’s steel or iron, silver on the other hand would be like putting our hands on a hot stove.” 

“How do we catch him, Harry? How do you catch something like this?” 

“Did you ask the upper brass what they thought of using wolves to track him?” 

“They vetoed it.” 

“I think you might find them in a more receptive mood now.” 

“You think your friends will be nice on a leash for me?” 

Harry snorted. “Not for you. For me. I’m their Lupa after all, and if Jason smelled him once. He can do it again.” He felt like he needed to do this. He needed to get into the papers and media that would plaster the werewolves of St. Louis helping to catch this guy. “I want it filmed, I want it localized on the media. It’ll be a sensational headline.” 

“You’re kidding me?” Zerbrowski squawked. “I thought you hated the media.” 

“I do, but I know when to use it. I won’t have my wolves fearing for their lives because of this piece of shit!” Harry hissed. “None of them deserve that.” 

Before Zerbrowski could say anything Harry’s phone rang. He flipped it open only to discover it was the Chief of Police, and after a quick conversation that only carried a bit. He hung up with a smirk on his face. 

“Were you talking to who I think you were talking to?” 

“They’ve issued a court order of execution for Van Anders.” Pity, Edward was already on a hunt. He would hate to miss this. 

Zerbrowski’s eyes were wide. “You are not going after him alone!” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Zerbrowski.” He then made a call to his house, and smiled when it was Teddy. “Hey sweetie, can you put Jason on the phone? If he’s not awake pounce on him.” 

“Okay!” Harry could hear him moving through the house and up the steps. “Uncle Jason! Are you awake? Parrain wants you!” 

“Thanks, Teddy Bear. He always wants me these days. Hey Lupa, whatcha need?” 

Grinning, Harry told him his plan. Jason took in a breath. “Got it. Shang-Da will want to accompany, Marcus left him for you. No doubt Jamil will want in on it too. Marcus is out taking care of business with Micah.” 

“Bring Stephen if you like. It’ll give him something to do and distract himself.”

“Edward came home and grabbed Peter and Gregory before leaving again. What was that about?” 

“Oh you know. Fun is never over with.” He was glad that Edward had taken Gregory. Probably for distraction. Edward seemed to like ordering the blond around, and the blond didn’t mind being ordered around. “Who is going to be with Teddy?” 

“Rafael stopped by for lunch and Nathaniel is always here.” 

“Good. See you guys soon.” 

Once Harry was off the phone, he asked for some plastic evidence bags and raided Van Anders’ dirty clothes drawer. Harry used gloves to keep his scent off them, and sealed the clothes in a bag. Harry would return from the hospital and start at the ground floor. Even if he did go up, he had to come down sometime. 

oOo

Harry didn’t bother with the police this time around. Stephen arrived in wolf form with a leash around his neck. He was a shaggy black wolf, and seemed excited to helping his Lupa. As evidence of his running in circles around Harry in greeting. Jason was also in grey wolf form, a bit more calmly. Harry holding both their leashes while Jamil and Shang-Da stayed by his side. 

They started from the apartment and tracked him through town, and it wasn’t an hour later that they found themselves at a mall. Harry’s eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t be able to do this quietly if he wanted to save everyone. The police had been watching the airports, the bus stations, and the highways and Van Anders was sitting in the bloody food court of Eastfield mall. He’d piled his hair up under a billed cap and added a cheap pair of sunglasses. It would have been a good disguise if his men hadn’t sniffed him out. 

“What do you wish to do, Lupa?” Shang-Da asked glaring daggers from where they all stood together. 

“Keep this exit blocked, Skoll. The wolves with me as I go.”

“Yes Lupa.” Shang-Da hung back as Hary, Stephen, and Jason started to move.

Harry had already flashed his badge at mall security. Jamil had gone to cover the other entrance and exit into the food court. It was mid-afternoon, so the food court wasn’t too busy since the lunch rush had finished. There was a group of teenagers at the table nearest Van Anders. At the table next-closest to him was a mother with a baby in a stroller and two toddlers. 

Merlin, Harry hated what was he about to do, but it was better than what Van Anders could do, who was fifteen feet from the playful children and the teenagers were frightfully close. Most of them female, and he knew Van Anders would be on a hunt. He waved his hand allowing a subtle amount of magic to divert the attention of the mother with the children. The teenagers would just have to stay. 

Harry didn’t hesitate as he began to move, gun at his side, safety off, round was chambered long before he got to the table. Harry had his Federal Marshall badge hanging out on his chest just in case some misguided person tried to save Van Anders. 

Harry had the gun up and pointed as he past the teenager’s table. It was their soft gasp that made him turn. He saw the badge and smiled. “Are you going to warn me not to move, tell me to freeze?” He sounded Dutch. 

“Nope.” Harry shot him, causing him to go flying back in his seat. He shot him again, this time in the heart. Harry circled the table and stepped around with his loaded gun pointed down at his face. Van Anders was choking on his blood, shockingly still alive. 

“Police have to give warning. Can’t just shoot.” 

“I’m not the police Van Anders. I’m the Equalizer with a warrant.” He shot the man in the head, and his face exploded into an unrecognizable mess, and it was accompanied by a mess of screams from all around him.

Harry should regret what he did. He should regret the horror and stares of kids and teenagers, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel anything. He felt completely empty. A hyperawareness that he borrowed from Edward. He needed to die. No way could he give that monster a chance. 

Of course, he made national news and Post Dispatch was running a front-page picture of him executing Van Anders. Bradley had gleefully told him all of this. Apparently, he had been across from a camera shop that had the live footage. It was nice that they got footage of him walking with two pony-sized wolves. “St. Louis Wolf Pack Protects Women Against Rogue Shifter.” Had a nice ring to it, thanks to Irving. 

Edward was going to love it. 

Speaking of Edward, it took him two weeks to not only track down Heinrick, but to also track down Balfour and Rex Caducci. Edward was quite proud of Peter, Balfour had come at them out of nowhere, and Peter shot him point blank between the eyes. 

Musette had quickly left the country but from her entourage, all of them but her servant wound up dead on their way back to France. No one knows how that happened, and Belle couldn’t blame them because Harry had been all over the news at around the same time. It helped that they did warn them that children vampires were anyone’s meat. 

Perfect timing. 

Harlan Knox sent Harry a postcard with the Eiffel Tower on it, and an emerald broach taken from the hair of one of the vampires. Jean-Claude had told him that it was a treasured heirloom of Belle Morte that she let Valentina wear. It was worth a good chunk of change, but Harry sat it aside. He didn’t need the money. It seemed that Knox had a great time on that challenge and if Death had anything else challenging to let him know through the number he’d given Harry. 

Everyone managed to get back home in time for Christmas, and they would be having a lot of venison, which saw everyone’s mouth watering. Harry had to break out cookbooks and even look online to figure out how to prepare it perfectly. 

Dolph was still on leave, and some of the brass had been alarmed by Harry walking into a crowded mall. Zeze had called it necessary, and gave them good reminders as to why Harry had to take such drastic measures. 

Asher was hanging around Harry’s house more and more. It seemed he was interested in Draco. Harry hoped the two didn’t kill each other. It would be hard to get off the walls. He wasn’t better, but he was content now that Musette was gone, and he was free of Belle Morte. Maybe he could finally move on?

It was now Christmas, and all the world had turned white overnight. Harry was sitting outside on the steps and watching the snow pouring down. Mobile Reserve now had Harry on their list of civilian experts. They’ll call if they need him, and Captain Parker was wicked pissed that the fed’s latest update on preternatural wasn’t so updated, but it wasn’t their fault. Not everyone was willing to open their eyes and listen. Open their eyes and be friends with every species like Harry. 

Harry sat snuggled in his coat, smelling Micah and Marcus when he saw dragonhide boots step out along with a shadow. Edward scaled down one step and then sat down beside Harry. 

“You’re freezing,” Edward noted. 

“Yes,” said Harry rubbing his palms together and blowing on them. “But, I’m trying to see the snow differently.” 

“Differently? It’s the same as it ever was. It’s wet, cold, and irritating.” 

“Pretty.” 

“I guess,” said Edward blandly. “I suppose.” 

Harry tilted his head, and smiled. “I did an Edward.” 

“Yes, you did.” 

“I didn’t hesitate.” 

“No. You can’t hesitate,” said Edward staring back at him. His cold blue eyes looked so good under the veil of snow. “Come here.” Harry shifted closer, and arms drew around him. A hand ran over the soft fur of the collar and down his arm. “We are going to have to be careful with your powers, Little Raven. You might want to start holding back on using your magic.” 

“I know,” said Harry. “It’s why I used a gun this time. Do you ever wish for a simple life?” 

“Simple? I think it’s pretty damn simple these days.” 

“You know what I mean, normal.” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“We’re not normal. We will never be normal. I learned that for myself years ago.” 

“Does it bother you?” 

“Once upon a time. Why?” 

“Just wondered. I never meant to adopt so many strays.” 

“What can you do? Besides, the cat made for good evidence hiding,” said Edward with a smirk. “I like ordering them around.” 

Harry snickered. “Yeah, I kind of figured that’s why you took him with you.” It wasn’t long before they were no longer alone. Marcus, Jean-Claude, and Micah all came out to sit around them. Micah snuggled up against Jean-Claude as Marcus came down beside Harry, and it was the warmth of all of them that kept him from outright shivering. 

Once upon a time, Harry never thought that Christmas could get any better than the ones at Hogwarts, but then Harry had never met Edward, Micah, Jean-Claude, and Marcus. He never had Teddy or a house full of friends and family. 

It was damn hard to be haunted by a conscience when he had so many people who loved him, including Death.

So it didn’t matter that the Mother of Darkness was about to rise from her crypt. It didn’t matter that she might very well be even worse of a creature than Voldemort ever was because Harry had Death. Harry had Death and all those around him, and he was happy. All of them were happy. 

Even Death had a strange sense of happiness, his eyes empty and cold, but they were his, and Harry thought they were beautiful. Just like the rest of his men. 

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up #12 in the series: Alpha
> 
> Summary: Micah and Edward join Harry in Philadelphia, and of course things never go quite as planned, and with Harry’s promise to lighten up on his magic in front others it’s going to be quite a challenge not raising an entire graveyard. 
> 
> Warnings: Same ol’ Same ol’ 
> 
> Book: Micah (technically #13)

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place December 2006
> 
> Harry - 26  
> Teddy - 8  
> Edward - 36  
> Micah - 27  
> Peter - 15  
> Marcus - 41


End file.
